


Show Me

by Nununununu



Series: Show Me [1]
Category: Moana (2016)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Edging, Eventual Romance, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Kissing, Manhandling, Masturbation, Not Underage, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sexual Experimentation, Size Difference, Some tags omitted to prevent spoilers, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 69,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: “I want you to show me what it’s like done right,” Moana explains and, damn it, she sounds sincere, “Even if it’s not perfect.”A less than fantastic fumble with someone else leads Moana to seek out Maui to discover how it ought to be done. Maui has a few hang ups of his own, but isn't about to protest too much. Explicit consensual sex, not underage. Feelings slow build; a relationship done backwards.(On hiatus; planning to complete it)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set several years after the film. Moana is an adult and over the age of consent. Explicit sex after the first chapter. Non-explicit references to consensual past Maui x other (both male and female, including references to long ago Maui x another male character from the film, particularly in later chaps) and Moana x other (gender not stated), none described in detail. Later chapters are much longer and increasingly explicit; set over a single night and the day after, divided into three parts (night / morning after / afternoon).
> 
> Please note there are potential triggers in later chapters not included in tags. A non-specific warning is included at the beginning of each where necessary (to prevent spoilers), with the triggers specified in the A/N at the end of each chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is made from it. Not to be posted anywhere else online without permission. The characters are based on those from the Disney film (aged up in Moana's case) and no offence is intended. Please be aware of the tags, potential triggers and rating.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Part One 

 

Maui’s had enough experience with humans and sex, and sex with humans, to know that, in this specific area, sometimes his awesome body and amazing strength can actually work against him if he isn’t careful, as unbelievable as that might sound. He’s had sex with monsters, too, in the past and other demigods, and once, memorably and rather traumatically, almost a goddess. Didn’t quite manage the last, but he got near enough, so he reckons it counts. While he didn’t spend his entire youth running around bedding everyone all day and all night – which had been tempting, true, but then there would have been no time for his glorious deeds – he’s learned the hard way that his partners, particularly humans, can find his size and strength overwhelming, and while that sounds kind of fantastic, the reality of it isn’t so much.

 _Overwhelming_ is a troublesome word.

Maui used to like the sound of it, liked to think that humans merely needed to look at him to be overwhelmed, and in truth he was pleased at first when his partner of the time called him overwhelming, before that young man of centuries past had explained that, no, he had intended it to mean _stop, slow down, too much_. Admittedly taken aback, his pride stung, Maui had salvaged the situation by throwing himself into doing everything that it turned out his partner actually _wanted_ him to do, rather than simply doing what Maui _presumed_ the young man wanted, which was _inspire, overcome, impress, outclass everyone else_.

It had turned out to be a learning experience.

After that encounter, Maui’s bruised ego had demanded a half a century sulk. It was difficult to accept that he’d been found lacking, especially in something as personal as sex. It also made him reconsider his other previous partners, particularly the human ones, seeing their encounters in a different light. Had he misinterpreted what they wanted, as well? Had he assumed they were overwhelmed with pleasure when, in reality, it had been – _he_ had been – too much? He may be blessed with a superb body, well-endowed with plentiful muscles (and, yes, that particular part of him is also well-endowed, thank you and you’re welcome), but from a human’s point of view, all those muscles make him _heavy_.

 _Heavy_ certainly doesn’t mean _fat_. Whatever that goddess had said about his belly. Anyway…

He’s learned that positions can be problematic and involve more thought than he particularly wants to have during sex. Him on top? Humans can, apparently, feel loomed over or crushed. That wasn’t a fun discovery to have, when he’d finished his sulk and found a few volunteers to try out his theories with. Him underneath? Humans can find it difficult to straddle his waist or chest or – well, anywhere, really. He’s just that much bigger and wider than them (if not necessarily taller, although he doesn’t like to admit to that). Sideways? While interesting and potentially fun, the size difference means it can lead to awkward fumbling and / or rolling, and struggles that are just a bit too confusing or amusing to be practical. There are other possibilities, of course, but the short of it is that his confidence was knocked – and then he ended up on a worthless lump of rock for a thousand years, and he hadn’t liked to think about it. The adventure that came afterwards had been surprisingly epic and empowering – quite literally, in a certain sense – and it hadn’t been the time or place then to think about his millennium long itch.

A handful of years now after that adventure and he’s had plenty of time to think about it, and plenty of time to debate doing something about it – and to _actually_ do something about it, a number of times – but still…

But still.

And however epic that adventure was, he hadn’t expected his little mortal sidekick and himself to end up _here_.

Here being the flickering glow of the torches and the pounding of rain on the roof of the little hut, the warm food in their bellies and drink on their breath, and the laugh Moana gives when he asks what the matter is.

“Oh, an experience gone wrong,” she says and he _knows_ she means sex, doesn’t know how, but he knows all the same, and before he can stop himself, his hands clench into fists.

“Who do I need to smack?” he asks, his voice light enough.

“No one, no one,” Moana waves him off, the laugh still on her lips as she swallows the last sip of her fermented coconut. It is the night after some ceremony, one Maui was invited to even though he’s only been to this island a couple of times and hasn’t seen Moana for a few years. It’s not always easy to keep up with her and her people given how fast they travel and seek out new lands, and how easily time slips by for him. He knows this is one of the islands he’d fished up for Moana to find, though, and he’s pleased they’ve settled on it for a while, however temporarily that may be. Maui has to keep reminding himself how fast time passes for humans. One look at Moana’s face, clear-sighted and graceful and so sure of her place, is enough to make him aware of it.

He knows he must visit her more. He is self-aware enough to know he partly stays away because of how swiftly, to him, she ages. She is certainly no longer anywhere near eight.

Anyway.

“So who is this kid?” he asks, doing a terrible job of playing the teasing best friend, knowing how petty it would be to sound jealous. Truthfully, he’s _not_ jealous, although when he thinks about Moana with this unnamed other person, there are emotions there, simmering under the surface, that he doesn’t really want to explore.

“No one,” Moana says again, not with embarrassment so much as an amused sort of defensiveness, possibly on her partner’s behalf, before she adds, “A cousin”, which could mean just about any of her tribe. Before Moana shook things up – _saved the world_ – her people had lived on Motunui for long enough that they just about all share a little blood. Maui’s heard her refer more or less to everyone as ‘cousins’, ranging from the few she’s less acquainted with to close friends.

He asks, before he can stop himself, “So what did this cousin do that was so bad?”, expecting Moana to protest and hit him with whatever is closest to hand (given that her oar is down on the beach with her boat) or to laughingly tell him to mind his own business.

Instead, Moana shrugs. She inspects Maui’s own drink to check it’s all gone and licks at the rim to clear up any last drops. He’s seen her drunk before and this isn’t it, but they are both a little tipsy, just on the edge of it. He tells himself it’s this that makes him watch her so closely, eyes lingering on the sheen on her lips in the torchlight. Perhaps the tipsiness is what inspired the conversation: Maui’s aware he’s not the best person Moana could speak to about it. Tui and Sina are off in the main hut with everyone else. Maui and Moana had made a not entirely subtle escape after a while into the dinner, grabbing some desserts and drinks to take down to the beach so they could catch up in peace, neither willing to wait until morning. They’d timed it poorly: shortly after, the rain had started, resulting in an undignified rush for this little hut, the nearest to hand. Maui can’t say he’s too disappointed with how it’s turned out. He likes Moana’s parents fair enough, the pig and even that chicken, and the rest of her tribe can be fun, but right now, he just wants to sit in this little hut with his best friend.

“It probably was both of us,” Moana admits, pulling a face, “It wasn’t _bad_ exactly, just… unsatisfying.”

Not bad _exactly_ is still bad enough, in Maui’s opinion, and he decides to do some poking around in the morning, find out who this person is and to let them know the error of their ways, demigod style. Then Moana can get annoyed with him and smack him with her oar when she finds out.

Unsatisfying, though?

“Surely…” he starts to say, before wisely shutting his mouth.

Moana continues regardless, “Just…it was kind of fast? Neither of us really knew what to do, I guess. With our…” she starts saying something about mouths and hands and other body parts, and Maui thinks that he either ought to clap his hands over his ears and make jokes about how he’s very much and most definitely not listening (or starting to imagine, thank you very much for all the detail, Moana) or to nudge her into having this discussion with her parents instead in the morning, or at least to wait and talk about it when they’re not tipsy. Before he can settle on the appropriate choice of reaction, Moana pauses, slanting a suspicious glance up at him.

Maui freezes. He knows that look.

“Is this _embarrassing_ you?” Moana asks, glee slowly spreading across her face, “Maui, demigod of the wind and seas, hero to _all_ –” and somehow she manages to make that sound vaguely dirty, “– embarrassed by a little talk of rubbish failed sex? What have you been _doing_ all these years?”

 _Rubbish_ failed sex? Unknown partner is definitely having their wrongdoings detailed to them. Thanks to Moana’s description just now, Maui will even be able to provide specific examples. But…

“What have _I_ been doing?” Maui splutters, “Stuck on a deserted island for a thousand years, remember?”

“After that?” Moana quirks an eyebrow at him, “ _Before_? I presume you have actually had sex at some point –”

“Aaaaand this conversation is over,” Maui interrupts.

If anything, Moana looks even more delighted, leaping to her feet to gesticulate in demonstration of her disbelief. “You _haven’t_? What? How is that even possible?” Maui is caught between offended at her entirely incorrect assumption and conflictingly pleased by the implication she seems to think he must get legions of partners offering themselves at his feet. Which isn’t too far from the truth, he assures himself. Still, he needs to stop this now.

“You’re _how_ old?” Moana asks.

“Moana,” Maui stands as well, thinking of putting his hand over her mouth just to stop the flood of incredulity, although not too sure he wants to risk her flailing arms in order to touch her. He settles with crossing his own arms, levelling her with a quelling look. “You’re being ridiculous.”

She snorts a laugh, not taking the look seriously in the slightest. “ _You’re_ ridiculous! Come on, tell me, you’re Maui, legendary trickster, remember? You must have had _some_ naughty exploits –”

Maui lets out a loud sigh, relenting. He flops back down.

“ _Yes_ ,” he says, “Yes, of course I have, plenty of sex, all very creative and awe-inspiring, some of it unexpectedly horrifying –” having teeth _there_ was just plain wrong “– none of it something I’m going to tell you about.”

Moana wipes her eyes, losing her laugh. She peers down at him through the gaps between her fingers. “Why not? I told you about mine.”

As if he had needed confirmation it had been her first time.

Maui sighs again, finds an unfinished plate of dessert amongst the abandoned dishes and offers it to her. “Look, sit down, will you? I don’t want to crane my neck looking up at you.” She sits, accepting the plate, and starts eating the dessert absently.

“Are you just trying to ask for advice about what to do next time?” Maui decides he ought to be serious, given that this conversation is happening however poorly suited he is for it. “Wouldn’t your mum or dad or friends be better for that? Or to speak to this cousin of yours? You did talk together about what went wrong, didn’t you?”

He can see by her face that they hadn’t.

“Not that interested in a repeat performance with them, then?” he asks, as gentle a way he can think of to ask without asking whether they are someone she has feelings for.

“Not after that, no,” Moana finishes the dessert, handing him the empty plate back. Maui rolls his eyes and sets it down. She admits, “It was pretty much a spur of the moment thing, anyway.” The rain gets even heavier on the roof, snagging their attention momentarily, and Moana draws her knees up to her chest as if chilled. It makes Maui want to put an arm around her and pull her in to share his own warmth, but he isn’t too sure about how the gesture would go over right now.

“ _You_ are my friend, Maui,” Moana says, which makes him grin, “I thought you’d have lots of – of advice about what to do. I was just – you know I was teasing you just now. Maybe it was wrong of me to pry, but I thought, out of everyone I know, you would have plenty of experience,” she side-eyes him, “Even perhaps experience of sex going wrong.”

Maui knows he ought to laugh and protest, to tell her that of course he’s incredible at everything and has never had any failures, but the idea of doing so doesn’t sit right. It must have taken some guts to tell him about her less than wonderful experience, fermented coconut to help or not, and he _is_ her friend, just as she is his.

Moana leans over sideways, just enough to rest her head on his shoulder, looking up at him as she waits for his answer, and so Maui gives in and pulls her close. Like that, he can feel that she is indeed a little cold and maybe tired, and it makes him wonder how late it is.

“You’ll get better with practice,” he tells her, “Just like everyone else. It isn’t something anyone gets perfectly right or even anywhere near right, occasionally,” he gives a crooked grin of acknowledgement, “Even demigods, yes, you’ve got me there. You’ve got to talk about it with your partner; make sure you both want what you’re doing; check you both know what’s going on.” He recalls something she said that he ought to clear up. “You know being a ‘legendary trickster’ doesn’t mean I trick people about sex, right?” That goddess had provided him with a good lesson in not mixing the two.

The goddess aside, considering the variety of his previous partners, monsters and fellow demigods and all that, Maui would like to think he’s done well in giving them a good time. Even if he hadn’t actually talked that all much with them, more concerned with soaking up their compliments or singing his own praises. Some of the sex (especially with monsters) had been more like fighting, if he’s honest, or started out that way, although he’d always made sure to check for consent. Still, he’d like to think highly of his prowess –

But a human, the race he thought he could please the most easily and successfully, had called him _overwhelming_ – and not in a good way.

The hypocrisy of the advice he’s just given Moana clogs in Maui’s throat.

Unaware of any of this, Moana blinks up at him almost innocently and Maui _knows_ that expression, knows it means she’s plotting something he’ll get dragged into despite knowing better. He ought to leave now while the going is good.

“But you do know what you’re doing?” Moana asks.

Maui fights to keep the rush of questioned memories and doubts off his face. “Of course I do!”

“So will you tell me?” Moana asks, “Or show me?”

“Show…” Maui has to stop there, unable to get any more words out, unable to quite process this new world in which his best friend has just proposed they have sex. So _this_ is what she was plotting? He has a brief hysterical moment in which he almost expects her family and friends to jump out of hiding and yell “surprise!”, and reveal the joke. He glances around uneasily, seeing nothing other than their abandoned dishes in the little hut.

Moana is…not joking though, is she?

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sex from this chapter on. Momentary dubious consent, soon established as explicit consent.

 

“I want you to show me what it’s like done right,” Moana explains and, damn it, she sounds sincere, “Even if it’s not perfect.”

Maui cannot for the life of him fathom what reaction he ought to have. _Hell no_ , is one. _Hell yes_ , is another, if guiltier.

“I guess?” is what his mouth says before his brain catches up and Moana sits bolt upright, startled into amused offense.

“Hey!” she thumps him, “Show some enthusiasm!” Before he can even come close to forming a response, she rises to a crouch and pushes him about and away from the remains of their food, frowning down at him as if trying to work out the logistics. Maui lets her manhandle him, feeling a stir of interest despite himself, all those thoughts he has never allowed himself to have about her starting to niggle for attention.

“So how does it work?” Moana asks and Maui snorts.

“If you mean my dick, then ‘it’ works like any other man's,” he says, deliberately crass, thinking it might startle her out of this course she’s seemingly set on. Then again, he knows how unlikely that is. “I was born human, remember? Demigods don’t have anything weird going on down there.” Unlike some of the gods, but any more thoughts about _that_ and he’s going to re-traumatise himself.

“But it works _better_ than any other man’s, of course,” Maui hastily tacks on, conscious he’s not at his best, conscious this isn’t anything like how he’d have imagined something between them taking place – not that he’s imagined it, of course! Still, he doesn’t want to posture and show off for her, like he would have for a partner he was trying to impress in times past. Moana’s different. It’s doubtful she’d _be_ impressed by that, for a start.

“Oh?” Moana asks, “Let me see?” – and are they doing this? Are they really going to? Did she truly just ask that? Maui’s still sitting there mostly stunned, while Moana’s hands are already fumbling for the knot in his lavalava, something almost clinical in her expression behind determination, curiosity and a glimmer of potential lust.

It’s disturbing how appealing it is to have her look at him like that, like he’s an experiment of some sort or a puzzle she needs to solve. She wants to use him to help her figure things out? Apparently part of Maui is good with that. It might be the part she’s trying to unearth from his leaves.

“Moving a little fast?” Maui says nonetheless and moves Moana’s hands away, gently nudging them into the safer territory of her own lap, careful not to touch more than her fingers and wrists. “Maybe we should –”

“Talk about this in the morning?” Moana predicts, which is close enough. She tugs out of his grip and sticks one hand swift as anything under the lavalava, like she’s daring them both. “I’m good with now, if you are.”

Maui stumbles over a curse as her fingers brush the tip of his cock. He startles, his dick undeniably twitching, legs and abdomen jerking, whole body responding to the touch. Taken off guard, he’s unable to hide his reaction, Moana’s eyes widening and her teeth digging into the corner of her lower lip in response. She looks caught between being impressed at the audacity of her own stunt and slightly shamefaced, as if perhaps she hadn’t expected to succeed. She also looks reasonably dumbfounded and possibly intrigued. It’s a complicated mix of emotions for Maui to parse, especially while her hand is on him. He’s less confident he can work out what he’s feeling himself, apart from a _certain part_ reminding him what she said about showing enthusiasm.

“You – I’m –” Moana says and Maui waits for her to sort the sentence out, not in the least because the vast majority of his attention is now on what’s going on under his lavalava and not on making words. “ _I’m_ _touching_ _you_ ,” Moana gets out.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Maui manages, dry as possible under the circumstances. He can’t get over the fact that she hasn’t pulled away, her fingers in fact moving on him very lightly. He keeps waiting for her to realise exactly what she’s doing, to get flustered and hit him or laugh it off; keeps expecting her to back out, even though he’s familiar with her stubbornness. It’s just like Moana to jump right in where it’s deepest, as it were, and go for the biggest challenge first (the biggest, indeed). Maui’s unaware his fingers are digging into the floor, threatening the integrity of the wood, pushing at it unconsciously in the need for an outlet for the mounting tension he’s repressing. Moana’s darting glances between his face and his lap, and Maui realises that she is equally waiting for him to push her away and put a stop to this.

He takes a necessary breath in and makes the decision that whatever happens, it will be _her_ choice and not his.

“Do you really, truly want to do this?” he asks, because it’s only right, “Because I could just give you some pointers. Um. You know, verbally.”

“You should know by now I’ve always been better at learning hands on,” Humour flickers across her face – yes, Moana, very clever – but then she answers more seriously, and smiles, “And yes. I do want to do this.” As if to prove it, her touch grows bolder, her thumb joining her fingers, moving the foreskin gently over the head of his cock. And damn it, damn _him_ , but the coolness of her skin and the soft certainty of her exploratory movements feel so good, the scratch of the leaves of his lavalava forming a sharp counterpoint against his thighs.

As arguments go, it’s highly persuasive.

“Trust me to know my own mind,” Moana says quietly, her eyes intent on his, reading something in his expression. Had Maui thought about them doing this previously, he’d never have imagined _she’d_ be the one coaxing and convincing _him_.

“Th – that’s never been in any doubt,” he manages, feeling himself swelling, Moana’s fingers sliding along his length so he begins to grow hard in the cup of her curved hand. “Moana…”

“Maui,” she counters, “Do _you_ want to do this?”, but he’s so tangled up in sensation, he can’t answer immediately. His cock is still somewhat confused about whether this is okay or not, his thighs and stomach tensing, toes curling when Moana carefully moves her hand further under the lavalava, her nails scratching gently against his inner thigh, very close to his balls, in a touch that may or may not be deliberate.

“Yeah,” he says. Allows himself to admit.

“Good,” Moana sighs, clearly relieved, her shoulders relaxing and her smile widening into a grin, “Can I keep touching you, then?” Something faintly mischievous rises in her gaze, like she’s pleased with herself for the effect she’s having on him. Maui knows what it’s like to enjoy giving pleasure, the feeling of power it can bring.

_Hell yes!_ is his only answer this time, although he succeeds in covering it with a cool and collected “You think I’m going to say no to that?”

“Do you like it?” Moana’s thumb slides through the short curls of his pubic hair, arching out briefly towards his hip, before she wraps her whole hand tighter around his cock and pumps him, just once. She pauses to check his reaction and then does it again. The floor groans beneath Maui’s hands and he winces, always conscious in the back of his mind of the need to guard his strength and how easily he can break things by accident. Unintentionally destroying the little hut wouldn’t be a great move right now.

Moana _definitely_ looks pleased. She answers her own question, “You like it.”

As if there’s any doubt. Maui can’t speak again. Can’t even swallow; his mouth’s gone dry as dust.

This time, when Moana returns her free hand to the knot holding his clothing in place, he allows her to undo it; even helps her, tugging the lavalava away and letting it pool on the floor to one side. He watches Moana inspect him, her dark eyes focusing at once on his cock, half hard now and ready and willing to get there fully, swelling further in response to the weight of her gaze. Moana’s palm and fingers are warming against him while Maui’s own revealed skin prickles in the coolness of the damp night air. He relaxes fractionally, shifting his legs wider to give Moana room for better access should she want it, drawing his knees and feet up restlessly and watching thoughts dance across her face. Moana’s lips part on a silent exhalation, showing him a glimpse of her teeth.

And damn him again, but Maui really, truly _does_ want this, wants her, very much. Wants to show her how it’s properly done. To make it perfect.

“You’re big,” Moana says, which should be a compliment, and yes, he is, his cock curving up further in response to the observation, seeking to nudge at the inside of her wrist. Maui grits his teeth to stop himself from asking her to touch him firmly, properly, shivering when instead she releases him to run her index finger down the underside of his length as if measuring him, confirming his size through touch. Moana closes her thumb and fingers around his cock, checking the girth, and Maui can only think of his island, of all those long, lonely years on that rock, and how his own touch had never measured up to even this much.

“Are you too big for me?” Moana asks, quieter, and Maui curses internally, seeing her biting her lip, still concentrating on just this one part of him. He reminds himself that this is all it is, just him supposed to be showing her how to do it right, and that doing it right definitely should _not_ involve her wondering if it will hurt.

Too many times has Maui come to fear that partners of the past might have harboured similar doubts and concern, but didn’t tell him.

“We don’t – don’t have to do that,” he says and means it, even though the very prospect makes his balls ache. He’s trying not to look at her body during this, at what he can see of it beneath her clothes, her slender grace, trying not to think about pulling her over on top of him, sliding his hands under the fabric and chasing the remaining chill from her skin. She’s his friend, he keeps thinking, she’s his best friend. He can’t lose that. He’s had sex with friends in the past, even long ago best friends, and it rarely turned out well. At the time, he never considered that _he_ might have something to do with that.

“I want to,” Moana purses her lips, “I want to do everything.” She shoots a glance up at him, “If you’re okay with that?”

“Yes!” Maui says, much more fervently than he intends. He clears his throat and continues more moderately. “Yes, that is – I’m okay with it. If you are. If…” He knows he needs to be honest here, to confess the concern that’s holding him back and that’s so far kept him uncharacteristically passive, “If it won’t make things weird.”

“You mean weird between us?” Moana asks. She bites her lower lip again, her hand moving on him absently, tugging his cock gently upwards and then down towards his thighs, even slightly side to side as if to consider it from every angle, rubbing under the head with the ball of her thumb. Maui gulps when she presses it down low, between his parted legs, and releases it. His cock curves back up on its own, rising towards his stomach, as if saying to her _look!_ – primed and eager to go. The casual manhandling and Moana’s apparent unawareness of how teasing it is shoots a bright spark of arousal up into Maui’s nipples, lodging a tight hot something in his chest. The fact she’s not touching him anywhere else and he’s not touching her, that she’s still fully dressed while he is naked… The fact she keep defying expectations it seems he’s harboured despite himself and that _she’s_ the one very much in control… It’s all adding up to having the potential to be one of the most erotic things he’s experienced in a long time, a thousand years on a rock or not.

“Things won’t be weird,” Moana says with enough certainty he almost believes her. Would like to, for sure. “Not between us, not ever. We’re friends. We’ve helped each other in the past, haven’t we?”

“This is kind of different,” Maui says, but he isn’t going to keep arguing. He urgently wants to ask if she will let him touch her, to ask if ‘showing her’ means he gets to participate or even take over, or if she just wants to continue learning and discovering for herself as she has been, but instead he looks around, wondering if there’s any bedding in this little hut, anything they can lie on. He thinks of something. “Your pet pig and that chicken aren’t going to burst in on us, are they?” Those animals seem to have a homing beacon where Moana is concerned. Maui reckons it’s completely within the realm of possibility they might appear, whatever the time of night.

Moana laughs.

“My parents will look after them. Don’t worry about it,” she says and puts her hands on his chest, pushing him even though he lies back obediently, guiding him down. Even before his head touches the floor, she’s climbing up, swinging a leg over his waist and sliding smoothly on top of him and, _damn_ , he can feel her, the fabric of her clothes tickling his skin, her skirt riding up so her bare thighs settle astride his pelvis, her knees and calves gripping his hips. She’s not big enough to perch on top of him easily – or rather, _he’s_ too big – and Maui raises his hands to hold onto Moana’s waist, helping her balance. It probably doesn’t help that he’s gasping shallowly although trying not to show it, his body moving beneath her with the force of his breaths, a little stunned that he can feel her skin nearly all the way up to her crotch. His dick is buried beneath layers of her skirt, twitching in it, delightfully trapped very close to her sex. All she would need to do is get the skirt off and shift back and down a bit, and he could slide right into her. Gods, he wants to do that.

“Is this position all right?” Moana asks, her palms dragging down over his pecs to his abs. Anyone else, they’d be admiring his tattoos and muscles, but her attention is back on his face. It is part of her figuring things out, he reasons, how very attentive she is to his responses to her. Even knowing this, it’s undeniably arousing.

“Remember what I said earlier? If you’re not sure, you should probably ask before doing it,” he gets out, and when this actually makes her hesitate, he rolls his eyes and says “ _Yes,_ yes, it’s all right,” tempted to demonstrate just how very all right he is with her astride him, but there’s something he needs to ascertain for himself first.

“You comfortable up there?” To his profound relief, she nods, although he suspects her legs will ache later, if she stays for long on top of him like that. He releases a hand from her waist to scrub it quickly over his mouth, gathering himself together, craning his neck up from the floor to look at her. “Okay, I got to say this, so I might as well say it now.”

Moana blinks, looking slightly taken aback, but puts on her ‘listening’ face. Maui almost interrupts himself by laughing, knowing that means she’ll listen and then do whatever she wants regardless, if she doesn’t like what she hears.

“Seriously, Moana,” Hopefully the use of her name will show he means it. “Saying ‘everything’ doesn’t mean we have to do _everything_ , when it comes to it. If there’s something we do or _I_ do that you don’t like, say so and we’ll stop it. If anything hurts at any point, it definitely shouldn’t, so let me know and we’ll stop that too, or figure out what’s not right. Anything you’re not sure about, ask me and we’ll talk about it. You said you want to know how it’s ‘done right’, but there’s not just one way of doing it.” Far from it, thank the gods. “And anything you _want_ to do,” he grins, concluding, “I’m probably up for it."

“I can feel that,” Moana smirks, a flash of wickedness as she wriggles her hips, making him jump, but he thinks there’s something like relief in the depths of her gaze, and her shoulders and back ease. “Quite a speech, Mr. Hero to All.”

“Hey, got to be prepared to give speeches when you’re a demigod,” Maui shrugs, as it’s quite true, pretending that little wriggle didn’t make his dick leap in its confines. “Anyway, you, er, got some ideas? Anything in particular you want me to show you? Or do you want me to take over from here?” He’d be very, very happy to do that. But he’s also intrigued about what Moana has got planned. Presuming she has a plan. Even the idea of her just winging it is appealing, finding out for herself what she likes. He knows how amazing she is and the craziness of some of the ideas she’s had in the past, defeating Te Ka and all that, but he also knows that doesn’t necessarily transfer to sex, given how little experience she’s had prior to this and how disappointing she said it was.

Moana looks almost embarrassed, turning her face to one side and peeking at him from the corner of one eye, half hiding behind her hair. She’s battling a little grin, even so, and Maui hides a laugh. So she definitely has an idea and it’s probably quite dirty, or at least she thinks it is.

“Well…” Moana starts.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Trust me, it’s nothing I haven’t done before,” Maui says when Moana hesitates, hoping this will reassure her rather than putting her off. He softens it with “Or at least thought about.” His previous experience is why she chose him for this, he reminds himself. He’d like to kiss her, undress her, caress her stomach and breasts, ease her into telling him what she wants, but she’s made no indication so far of wanting any of _that_ , and Maui knows full well Moana isn’t someone who generally appreciates being eased.

“Go on, tell me,” he nudges her instead, gently teasing, “You’ve never had a problem telling me your mind before.”

That makes Moana snort, although she still bites her lip. Maui licks his own lips in response, aware of the dryness of his mouth. He imagines that hers would taste of fermented coconut, perhaps the sweetness of the dessert he gave her. Can’t help but wonder if at some point he’ll get to find out.

“Will you…look at me?” Moana asks and there’s a light flush to her cheeks – this is it, this is her asking him for what she really wants. Maui’s cock gives a pulse of sheer approval when he realises what she means – exactly _where_ she wants him to look – a little precum leaking out and onto her skirt. His mouth gets even drier, if anything, in contrast. Trust Moana to come up with something like that while he's thinking of kisses.

“Just look, at first,” she says, and yes, absolutely, definitively yes, he can do that. ~~~~

“Come here,” Maui wraps an arm around her back above her hips, his other hand cupping her head and drawing her towards him as he lifts himself up. He rolls them like that, holding her safe and steady, changing positions until they’re on their sides facing each other, knees and elbows tangling a bit. Maui grimaces, thinking of her comfort. “Floor’s kind of cold. You want me to go find a blanket or something?” Not that he has any desire to get up and even less to leave the hut and go out into the dark and rain, but he will if she wants it. Moana repeats the glance around them that Maui gave earlier, confirming there’s nothing useful conveniently lying around.

“It’s okay,” she smiles, “It’s doesn’t bother me; it’s colder at sea than here.”

Maui resists saying that he’ll warm her up, just lets his hands do the talking, finally giving himself permission to touch her, running the hand on Moana’s head through her long hair, down the arch of her neck, the length of her spine. He stops at the top of her skirt, fingers rubbing over her hip, dipping underneath the material, feeling the softness of her skin.

“Want to take this off or prefer to keep it on?” he asks, “Could put it beneath you?”

“On for now,” Moana says, “It’s a pain to take off and on, and fasten up again,” which is fair enough, particularly as she hitches the skirt up a few inches, revealing more of her slender legs, Maui pulling back both to look at her and to let her roll onto her back. He brings his hand out from under her hips, resting it on her thigh just above her knee.

“Can I kiss you here?” he asks, thumb circling around to press gently into the back of her knee. Her leg flexes a little at the tickling touch and she grabs his head in answer, laughing as she pushes him down. And her knee isn’t what he ultimately wants to kiss, but it’s a very good start, and her skin is sweet-smelling and smooth against his mouth, and Moana squeaks a little at the feeling of it as he kisses her there and moves her legs a bit wider.

“Can I kiss you here, too?” Maui asks, shifting an inch or so higher, brushing his lips against the inside of her thigh when she agrees, smiling when his nose picks up the scent of her arousal. It makes him want to bury his face into her lap and – yes, breathe it in. But Moana did say she wanted him to _look_ at her and so Maui pulls back again, propping himself on one elbow, shifting until he’s half-sitting, half-sprawled between her knees.

“All right to push this up higher?” he asks, shooting a look up at Moana to check she’s on board with this, grazing his palm further under her skirt and up her thigh in demonstration. Moana is up on both her elbows, the better to see him, her stomach tight and anticipation on her face.

“Yes,” she says, and so he pushes the skirt up carefully, fabric bunching and collecting at her waist, until any further and she’ll be exposed.

“I’m going to look at you now,” Maui tells her, getting the impression she appreciates him talking, seeing the flush deepen on her cheeks. Moana murmurs her consent, letting out a breath, a tiny moan, and Maui squeezes his own thighs together, seeking self-restraint, helpless not to look as he guides the fabric gently out of the way, undoing the layers he needs to and pushing the skirt right up around her stomach, revealing her sex.

It’s beautiful.

She’s beautiful. A scattering of dark pubic hair above sweet outer lips Maui immediately wants to kiss and lick. A glistening of wetness on the tips of the inner lips peeking out, flushed with arousal, the scent of her need growing stronger by the moment. Moana’s looking at him looking at her and Maui doesn’t know what expression is on his face, but knows it must be filled with desire and perhaps something like awe.

“Open your legs wider,” he says huskily, watching avidly as she does so, the movement pulling apart her outer lips, letting the inner ones spring free, revealing more of her to him. He can see her clit, wants to press his thumb to it, wants to slip a finger inside her and see how tight she is, see how much pleasure he can wring out of her.

“Do you want to touch me there?” Moana asks.

“Only if you want me to,” Maui answers with _extreme_ restraint, knowing better than to take the question for permission as he might have in the past. He wants… He wants desperately to touch her, but he equally wants to see her touch herself. He suspects she might like him to watch her do that.

“Yes,” Moana says, and she sounds sure.

“Will you open yourself wider, so I can see more first?” he asks.

“Maui,” Moana blurts, as if she doesn’t mean to, and Maui internally smirks, chalking one up to him, knowing he’s getting it right. He drags his gaze away from her sex to glance at her face, double checking even so. Moana’s biting so hard on her lip she might break the skin.

“How are you so good at this?” she says, almost an accusation.

He can’t help but laugh. “Naturally awesome demigod?” he offers, rather than mentioning her inexperience. It’s not like he’s done much other than talk so far, though it’s clear she likes that more than enough. “So…” He’s careful not to put any pressure or expectation into the word.

“So,” Moana echoes, looking faintly disbelieving but very aroused, and reaches down, over her stomach and hips and around her thighs, and gasps when her fingertips brush her outer lips. Maui doesn’t dare breathe as she does as he suggested, raising her knees higher and even wider, pulling herself open, putting herself on display for him. He can see everything like that, can even see _into_ her a bit, everything parting, and it looks snug and wet and inviting. Before he can stop himself, before he can even do the right thing and _ask_ , Maui’s body takes over from his mind and leans him over and into her, and he lowers his head and licks a long, warm, slow stripe right up the length of her sex.

Moana jolts and squeals, her fingers bumping either side of his chin. Maui chuckles, huffing into her, making her squirm.

“Sorry, should have asked,” he says against her, not _that_ sorry, the tip of his nose temptingly close to her clit.

Moana can’t speak at first. “Let’s just – let’s just assume the answer is yes,” she manages and, while he’s _not_ going to assume, it’s good enough for now, and so he licks her again, first one side and then the other, around her fingers, down to lap his tongue over her opening, licking _in_. She smells and tastes so good, and her legs are shaking around him, and he thinks he could probably make her come just from this, before he even gets to her clit. It’s not a bad idea, but he wants to suck on it, wants to do so much more than that.

“Want to put your feet up over my shoulders?” he suggests, “Hands on my head” and she lets go of herself with a groan. “All right?” He helps arrange her and she nods, burying her hands into his hair. In this particular instance, he doesn’t mind that his curls are going to end up a mess. Frankly, he rather likes the idea of it, given the cause.

“This is okay?” Moana asks breathlessly, as if there was any way her slight weight could be even marginally uncomfortable for him, and Maui chuckles again, sliding a hand under her and spreading his fingers to support her hips and ass, holding her up off the floor and close to his face.

“Oh yes,” he says and reaches his free hand up between her legs to open up her sex himself.

“Ah – ah,” Moana pants, aborting what sounds very much like a curse, and Maui can’t help it, he gathers up some of her wetness onto a finger, getting it nice and slick to avoid any friction, and rubs it over her clit. Moana spasms and definitely swears. Maui laughs.

“You’re welcome,” he says.

“Don’t,” she throws an arm over her face, but she’s also laughing, “Don’t you dare start singing!” She can’t maintain the laugh, expression slipping, her mouth going lax as she peers over her wrist at him. Maui’s still rubbing her, transferring his thumb to her clit and circling it smoothly, sliding his finger down and tapping gently at the edge of her opening in an unspoken request for entrance.

“No singing,” he assures her, “Though I might make a song about this,” and Moana’s squawk of protest is matched by her sharp pull at his hair, the resulting flare of arousal shooting hotly through Maui and making him bury his finger in her faster than planned, right up to the knuckle.

“Oh,” Moana gasps, going rigid, and Maui bites back a gasp as well, feeling her flex around him, as warm inside as he had imagined and wonderfully tight.

“Okay?” he asks, "More?" and she nods – “Yes – _yes_ ” – but he waits until she relaxes, moving her arm properly from her face, returning her hand to his hair. Only then does he crook his finger, testing.

“Oh!” Moana says again and then, “More – don’t stop!” There’s nothing but pleasure on her face, with a smidgen of crossness leftover from his teasing, the latter swiftly erased when Maui draws his finger nearly all the way out and then slides it smoothly back in again. And then he can’t wait any longer, so he bends down to lap at her clit, running the broad flat of his tongue over it firmly until Moana’s yanking at his hair over and over, grabbing great handfuls of it. He slides another finger into her and feels her jolt and gasp and her whole body tighten, her orgasm close, so he sucks at her clit greedily, his mouth wet now from her arousal. He crooks both fingers inside her as he sucks, massaging her inner walls, and Moana squeezes his head with her thighs, her body seizing up and curling around him, nearly ripping his hair out as she shakes and cries out and comes.

Maui keeps sucking her, moving his fingers as much as he can with her muscles clamping down on him, drawing her orgasm out. It’s sticky and messy and wonderful, and he can feel his own precum streaking his thigh, his neglected cock as hard as it can get. He shifts helplessly under his own arousal and the weight of his cock draws it downwards, the head brushing the cool of the floor, and Maui jumps at the sensation, letting out a startled laugh right against Moana’s clit. She moans, so he licks her again.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, although he lifts his head a bit to do so, not wanting to push her for more unless she wants it. He’s tempted to just carry on until he brings her to another orgasm, but has a suspicion, given how little she’s done before, that might count as overwhelming – as in _too much_. So, he thinks, he should offer her all the options.

“You want a moment? Or was that enough?” He fervently hopes the answer to this last question is ‘no’, but whatever they do – or don’t do – remains up to Moana. Maui guides her legs off his shoulders and lowers her down to ease her back and help her relax, shuffling the back of the skirt under her legs and ass for some protection against the cold floor, telling himself to remind her to bring a shawl or something if they go out at night like this in the future. Thinking of that, he can’t help but wonder if he’ll get to do this with her again. That raises questions and something much like hope and even expectation, and so he quickly sets the prospect aside, reminding himself this is simply practice for her and that _expectation_ certainly has no place in it.

Nor does _hope_.

“’Enough’?” Moana rubs a hand over her forehead, scrubbing it through her hair, her breathing uneven, “You think I want to stop now?” She rises up on her elbows, shoots him a look. “Was that enough for _you_?” Before Maui can answer, she gives a long look down the length of his body, her eyes homing in on his cock. “You’re leaking on the floor.”

Maui splutters something about, yes, he’s horribly aroused and, yes, he tends to leak when he’s as excited as he currently is, and does she really have to talk about it? But he can’t deny he likes her doing so all the same, even if he’s glad most of the splutter is unintelligible. While he has no qualms about showing off his body and always relished the praise of partners past, he can’t recall any of them being quite so frank.

Moana stretches, groaning as she does so, and then sits up and shifts around just enough to reach out, extending a finger towards the little puddle, incidentally coming very close to his cock, and the words stop short in Maui’s throat. He sees her eyeing the string of precum still attached to his dick, stretching between the head and the floor, sees consideration in her face, perhaps thinking about what he just did to her and how good it felt. Then she dips her finger into the little puddle and puts it in her mouth. Maui has one moment to find this surprisingly appealing and simultaneously gross, before Moana’s face twists.

“Off the floor?” he blurts, at the same time as she makes a disgusted noise.

“Ack,” she says, and then “Urgh,” which is not the reaction he was hoping for, although he _knows_ it tastes kind of funky, undoubtedly even more so off the floor. Moana sits up, floundering, looking like she’s trying to talk while not moving her mouth and further engaging her taste buds, “Did _I_ taste like – oh, yuck. Got to drink something!”

Maui can’t help it; he bursts out laughing. Her reaction is just that bit too much.

“Here,” he casts about, sitting up himself and scanning their abandoned dishes, finding an uneaten banana, “You finished both our drinks already, but this should help.” Moana grabs it, peeling it quickly and stuffing a huge bite into her mouth, and then she stops, not chewing, looking a little guiltily at him. Maui can only be grateful that she doesn’t know what’s going through his mind right then, although it's probably quite obvious. Suffice to say, he’s unlikely to be able to see her eat a banana in the future without having less than innocent thoughts.

“You did that for me,” Moana says around the mouthful, no need to specify what she means. She pauses, chews and swallows, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, and then giggles sheepishly at her own bad manners. The front of her skirt has fallen down over her lap, the hand not holding the banana brushing over the material subconsciously. “I want… I want to do the same for you.”

Maui would grin and whoop inside with glee, if not for the pretty clear _but_.

“You don’t have to,” he forces himself to say, even if something inside him dies a little. Because she absolutely doesn’t have to. “I’d happily do that for you anytime –” Er, should he say that? Too late, he’s said it and he finds it’s the truth. _Happily_. _Anytime_. Maui continues on over his possible blunder, trying not to notice Moana looking stunned “– But there’s never an obligation for you to do the same.”

“But I _want_ to,” Moana says.

Okay, he isn’t going to protest about that.

“Okay,” Maui shrugs, cool as cool can be, although inside he’s high-fiving, and he damn well might write a song about _this_. Moana squints up at his face.

“You really, really want me to do it, don’t you?” She sees right through him, of course.

“Yes,” Maui gives in and squirms a bit, “Yes, I really, really want you to do it” and they both grin.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Unlike at the start of all this, when Moana proved herself happy to dive right in (as it were), she now pauses, eyeing Maui's dick, her gaze running down the length of it, over his thighs and balls, before shifting back up to focus on the head of his cock, a tiny frown pockmarking her brow.

Maui attempts not to fidget under the inspection, feeling her gaze like an almost physical sensation, the need to _move_ only increasing when she raises a hand to his hip but doesn’t quite complete the gesture, hovering like the ghost of a touch over his skin.

It’s fairly clear she’s wondering where to start. Maui could make a few suggestions – _anywhere_ , perhaps – but he restrains himself. It’s up to Moana to decide.

She darts a glance up at him, her mouth quirking at the edges like she _knows_ how difficult it is for him to sit still right now. Her thumb curves in and up over his waist, finally making contact, and she’s warmer than she was earlier, feels warmer than he is now. For all her momentary hesitation, the touch is sure, and Maui has to fight down a shiver that rises up in him in response.

It’s possible a thousand years alone on a rock might have left him a little starved for physical contact. It’s not something he likes to think about.

“Can you try not to come in my mouth?” Moana asks.

“Uh,” is the best Maui can come up with initially, his throat working hard as he gulps, fighting not to react outwardly other than that – because now she’s suggested the possibility, of course it’s all he can think about.

“I can try,” he starts to say, before swiftly changing it to perhaps an excessively confident “Of course I won’t!”

At least it helps his conviction to think that, if he succeeds, he might well get to come _somewhere else_.

“You gave me one long lick to start with,” Moana says.

Just hearing her say this, voicing aloud what he did to her – Maui’s dick throbs as if to say _yes please, go for it, the same would be great_. He sees her shift her legs, drawing them in towards herself, and the knowledge she isn’t unmoved by the memory makes him fight down a self-satisfied grin.

“Not likely to forget,” he assures her. Wrinkling her nose in objection, her expression halfway between a smile and a pout, Moana pokes him between the ribs.

Maui certainly doesn’t let out an ‘eep’ when she unerringly gets a ticklish spot.

“Should I do the same?” Moana asks, even as she’s laughing at his reaction and he’s batting her away. She continues, “And you – you sucked me, didn’t you. And, um. Put your fingers in me. Should I do that to you?”

Maui can only blink for a moment, frozen, his mouth partially open, any words he might have been about to say forgotten. He hadn’t expected her to suggest _that_.

Still, if his dick was able to, it would be doing a little song and dance of encouragement right about now.

“There’s nothing you ‘ _should’_ do,” he answers as steadily as he’s able to when he regains his voice, despite his imagination working overtime at the prospect of her doing exactly what she just said, “Just do what you _want_. You know, there’s probably not much you could do that I wouldn’t…” The words die in his throat even as he says them, “Er…”

‘Er’ indeed.

Maui’s a bit taken aback to realise there _is_ something she could do that he wouldn’t like. Teeth. Yeah. He’s not a big fan of those on his dick. Or anywhere, really. Not after –

_Anyway!_

Still not thinking about that.

Moana is peering up at him and, considering the dawning intrigue in her expression, likely remembering his unintentional reference earlier to an “unexpectedly horrifying” past encounter.

“Tell me –” she starts and Maui has a moment in which to experience total and utter panic and denial, before she takes pity on him and finishes, “– If I do something you don’t like.”

He wants to smite her just the tiniest bit for the short yet _undoubtedly_ deliberate pause she put in the middle of that sentence.

“Okay,” Moana continues briskly, all innocence, but he can see mirth in her eyes as she wraps her hand around his cock.

It all but _leaps_ into her hand, aching with how long it’s been since she touched it last. Maui hasn’t touched himself either, his cock left neglected since he went down on her. He hasn’t been so turned on for so long since back on the island, when he was at a loss for anything else to do and was mind-numbingly bored.

That little exercise in self-deprivation doesn’t even register as a comparison to this.

Lifting his dick up from where it’s lying in the crease between his belly and thigh, Moana looks at it, looks up at him, and then shifts her ass on the floor, scooting closer, bracing her elbow across his thigh and leaning some of her weight on his leg.

“All right?” she asks, and he nods.

Like this, she’s facing him, very close, her knees crooked, feet tucked to one side. Strands of her long hair graze his stomach as she leans into him, making him twitch. He can feel the soft press of her breasts against his thigh, enticing even through her clothes.

“One long lick,” Moana repeats, as if to herself, and then – at long last, finally, thank the gods – she bows her head, shifting her hand on his dick to give her mouth room for access, and Maui’s legs jerk, his breath whooshing explosively out of his chest, as she does exactly that.

He can’t think of anything else right then. The whole world narrows down to Moana, to the warmth and wetness of her tongue, the feel of her bottom lip when it catches on the underside of his dick, the soft tickle of her breath. Moana hums a little in thought, making Maui hiss, and then she lifts her head.

“It doesn’t taste as bad as before,” she says, sounding a mixture of pleased, surprised and relieved.

Maui would never be so rude as to put his hand on her head and guide her back down to his cock, but, damn, he has to battle the urge.

“Off the floor was kind of a weird idea,” he agrees, his voice a little tight with how wound up he is. His patience pays off when Moana uses her thumb and index finger to shift his foreskin, experimenting, before pulling it as far as back as she can. Maui almost winces, but it seems she quickly realises the limit, and even just the cool damp of the night air feels intense against the vulnerable exposed head of his cock.

“Does it feel good if I lick here?” Moana asks, before trying it, a little investigational flick of her tongue, and Maui can’t answer, his hands curling into fists for the lack of something to hold, his whole body tensing even further, doing his utmost to hold himself still and silent as she runs her tongue more firmly over the head. It’s either that or buck and yell in enthusiasm.

Moana notices this.

“You’ve gone very quiet,” she draws back just enough to aim a querying glance up at him, pulling off his dick with a little suck, and Maui gives in, unclenching one of his hands in order to put it carefully on the back of her head, not applying any pressure in the slightest. He’s simply powerless not to touch her while she does this, needing at the very least to stroke her hair. It’s smooth and silky – if not as glossy or conditioned as his – and he runs his thumb over her ear, sliding the back of his fingers down her neck and onto the curve of her shoulder. Moana gives him a little smile in response, her hand resettling on his cock, and Maui’s belly quivers.

“It’s kind of disconcerting,” she says, “Completely unlike you.”

“Concentrating,” he admits and, because she deserves to have it confirmed, “Feels good.”

That’s an understatement.

“ _Good_ ,” Moana’s smile widens and he’s sure she sighs in relief, right before she drops a kiss to his cock like a reward, making him jump.

“How about _I_ talk?” she says.

“Uh…” While he’s curious to hear what she’d say, _talking_ might well mean less _doing_ , and Maui’s not too sure how to feel about that, although his dick has an answer ready enough. His past experiences, plentiful though they might have been, nonetheless tended to be more about much quicker gratification than this.

“Shall I talk about _you_?” Moana suggests when he fails to produce a proper response.

“Yeah…?” Okay, even his dick is in agreement that it likes the idea of that. Although, damn it, Maui should have learned his lesson long ago to fear that crafty little grin she gives.

“You’re in proportion, aren’t you,” Moana starts – which might be her version of dirty talk – and Maui’s _sure_ she’s silently laughing at him, but his cock still throbs at the observation as much as it does in eagerness when she angles it so she can talk and see him at the same time as touching him, giving it another kiss. Maui can’t look away, his hand slipping off her shoulder, returning to grasp uselessly at the floor.

The sight of his swollen cock resting against her mouth while she looks up at him, the brush of her lips against him with each word –

“It would be kind of funny,” Moana continues in a tone of utmost seriousness, “If you were so large everywhere else, but had a really tiny –”

“ _Moana_ ,” Maui interrupts.

“Mm?” she asks, and sucks him before he can say anything further, a streak of precum glistening on her cheek to the side of her mouth, her lips moving in a slow, mischievous slide when she pulls back to give him another lick. 

Maui shudders. In his peripheral awareness, he’s pretty sure he hears something break. Possibly his brain.

“It’s okay, don’t feel bad,” Moana says, as if she’s trying to be _comforting_ , “If you were smaller, I could just pop you right into my mouth.”

“That’s – ” Not what he meant.

Moana arranges her hand on his cock as if to indicate just how small she’s imagining, and then she brushes a kiss next to her fingers. She says, right against him, “I could suck you really easily then.”

“ _Moana!_ ” Maui repeats with rather more urgency.

Moana _keeps on talking_ , as if she has absolutely no idea what she’s doing to him, lifting his dick up a bit so she can kiss the sensitive vein, her breasts pressing harder against his thigh. She says, “As it is, I might have trouble fitting all of you in.”

Very shortly, she isn’t going to need to bother trying.

Maui would like to think he’s got fantastic stamina, would like to claim that he could do this all night – what a thought! – and he’s actually vaguely embarrassed to feel his balls tightening, orgasm threatening, tingling at the base of his cock.

He must make some sort of noise, as Moana’s expression changes as she looks up at him, right as she wraps her hand around his cock just under the head. And yes, that’s a good place for her to grip –

“Are you going to come?” she asks and just having her _say_ it –

“Need you to squeeze,” Maui gets out between clenched teeth, “Right now.” Only the awareness he might hurt her prevents him from nudging her away to do it himself, knowing he’s gone enough to be unable to fully control his strength.

“Like this?” Moana does so, clearly a little startled, but thankfully willing to do as asked. All the same, she doesn’t apply enough pressure and the squeeze she gives him instead simply feels _good_ , adding up to being the last thing needed to very, _very_ nearly tip him over the edge.

“Haaaah,” Maui manages a sort of strangled sound of warning that he’s about to come all over her and his own stomach.

Forget not coming in her mouth: he can’t imagine she’d appreciate getting it in the face.

“ _Harder_ –” he gasps.

Moana squeezes him hard enough to see stars.

Maui can’t think or do anything for a moment, struggling against the jumbled confusion of input from his body, marginally aware he’s making a noise unfortunately similar to that chicken when it’s regurgitating a stone. That squeeze was more painful than he would usually appreciate, but at least it does the trick.

“Ah,” he grumbles, swearing under his breath, his voice rather wrecked, blinking blearily as he comes back to himself. He discovers Moana sitting up facing him, doing that thing with her eyebrows, making her ‘sincere’ face. And damn it, he didn’t mean to worry her.

“I _hurt_ you, didn’t I?” she exclaims, before he can say anything, “I’m so– ” and Maui flaps a hand hastily, cutting her off before she can apologise.

“No,” he says, summoning speech, hefting himself vaguely upwards to be able to better look at her, “You didn’t hurt me.” Not in a bad way, anyway. “Did just as I needed you to.” Does he have to keep talking? It’s still more breath than words.

Moana’s shoulders remain tense though, so he adds, “Thanks” and means it, “Really. It’s no big deal.”

Well. However big Maui is normally – and he _is_ – his dick currently feels _enormous_ , still taking up a vast amount of his attention, complaining loudly about the abuse and eager for the consolation of her hand back on him or her mouth, or her – well, yes. That would be nice.

“Is it…” Moana starts. Maui endeavours to focus on her and not on his cock, to shake more sense back into himself, because this is supposed to be about _her_ and not _him_.

“Is it too much?” Moana asks, and just that – just hearing her ask the very words Maui himself has come to worry about so much and for so long, has him unmoving for a moment, staring at her.

This little mortal – _his best friend_ – is concerned that _she_ might be too much for _him_?

“No! Why would you think…” he blurts, through his stunned disbelief. Something occurs to Maui and he reaches out, fingers sliding through the hair that’s fallen partially over Moana’s face, thumb and forefinger tucking under her jaw, nudging her chin up until she looks at him.

He says, “It’s _definitely_ not too much for me. But remember what I said before we started? It’s okay if you change your mind.” And it is. Whatever his dick thinks. “And – and let me know. If it’s, you know.” This is gallingly hard to say and Maui curses himself. “Um. If it’s too much for _you_.”

To his _intense_ relief, Moana sits upright at this in objection.

“I don’t want to stop,” she says, gesturing in protest, “I just didn’t expect you to – to do _that_. You _crushed_ some of the floor. And your lavalava.”

Maui looks down. He has. The leaves are dust in his other hand. Must have grabbed the thing without noticing in his extremity, along with the floor. Thankfully he didn’t put his hand right through the latter, but just ripped up some chunks. That doesn’t make it much better, even so.

“I’ll, uh, fix the floor tomorrow,” he winces, brushing the remains of leaves and bits of wood off his hand, glancing at Moana to see if she’s mad. He has no idea who this little hut belongs to, after all, or what it’s usually used for, although thank the gods it’s not someone’s home. _That_ would involve all different kinds of awkwardness.

Maui’s not _entirely_ surprised when Moana hunches over, wrapping her arms across her stomach. She’s shaking.

“Moana…?” he asks suspiciously, just as she erupts into giggling, her concern well and truly gone.

“You destroyed your lavalava!” she splutters, “What are you going to wear?”

Maui collects up the few surviving leaves to add to a new one, leaning over to one side to put them out of reach, “I can make another.” Easy enough.

“Have to get up early, while it’s still dark,” Moana teases through her giggles, “My – my people are early risers… especially my mum and dad…”

Okay, yeah, being naked doesn’t usually bother him, but now she’s mentioned it, he’s not too sure he wants her parents to watch his bare ass shimmy up a coconut tree. Not convinced _they’d_ want to see it, either.

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist,” Moana drags an arm across her eyes, getting the giggles under control just as Maui’s resisting the urge to sulk, “The look on your face –”

He gives her a different kind of _look_ , for that.

“I have to be there for it,” Moana continues regardless, “I’d offer to help, but I _definitely_ want to watch.” Maui opens his mouth to argue against this plan, but then she reaches out and puts her hand on his thigh, her thumb curling over a tattoo.

“Whether I hurt you or not, it _does_ look painful,” she says, quieter and more seriously, and there’s no need to ask what _it_ is. His cock is admittedly baffled, not used to all the pauses, the teasing or such punishment. Before Maui knows quite what she’s doing, Moana leans over to give it the sweetest of kisses, much like the apology he wouldn’t let her say.

It makes some unexpected emotion lodge in his throat.

“When I asked you not to come in my mouth, I didn’t mean for you not to come at all,” Moana says and Maui has to fish for a moment for a response.

“I thought you might like me to, er…” he flounders.

“To ‘er’?” Her eyes shine up at him as she grins, “To come somewhere else?”

“Uh-huh.” Indeed, that. “But only if you still want to do more of that 'everything'.”

“Hmm,” She licks him contemplatively right where she squeezed, lightly and carefully, a soothing touch that is slower and calmer than it was before, as if she knows his cock is a little distrusting at the moment, still exceedingly eager but all the same fearful of further chastisement. Perhaps because of that squeeze or because of how extremely close he came to orgasm, it feels _ridiculously_ sensitive.

“I’d like to do other things with you too,” Moana says, "Yes, more of that 'everything'" and Maui swears his balls rise up in pure anticipation and excitement at the prospect. “And, yes, for you to come _elsewhere_ ” she grins, “But I can keep going like this for a while first, if you like? I won’t squeeze again.”

An unanticipated part of Maui wants her to. Wants Moana to keep going, to take him right to the very edge again and, at the last possible moment, deny the release. To do this over and over. Although it would likely result in more destruction for the little hut and he would need to be very careful to keep Moana safe too, just in case. Besides, he feels he’s left her neglected for more than long enough, so maybe it’s for the best he’s not sure he could articulate the desire.

Also, he’s impatient to touch her again.

“Moana…” Maui says instead, when she presses another kiss to his cock, reaching out to cup her face in both hands, “Your _mouth_.” He runs his thumb over her upper lip, knowing she can hear by his tone how much of a compliment he means it as. Moana smirks a little, swiping her tongue across the digit – and not at all incidentally across his dick – and Maui presses his thumb gently against her upper lip for a moment, just looking at her, taking in everything about her face, the feel of her body where she’s leaning against him.

“Maui?” she says, a question in his name, and he nearly catches hold of her, nearly tucks his hands under her arms to draw her up against him and to cradle her close and kiss her, long and hungry and deep.

“All right?” Moana asks, but Maui has no breath left in his body to answer her and only two words.

“Come here,” he says.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

“Where do you want me to come?” Moana asks, pretending at innocence as if her mouth isn’t an inch away from Maui’s cock. It’s only a moment before a grin cracks the false solemnness of her expression.

“I think you know _that_ ,” Maui rolls his eyes at her joke, but can’t help a grin of his own.

Even so, while his dick might be eager to provide Moana with an enthusiastic answer to her question, he’s determined he’s not going to be distracted. He’s a demigod on a mission. He’s going to kiss her. He’s not going to chicken out.

Although –

“Do you want me to stand up?” Moana rests her hands lightly on his thighs in readiness to rise and Maui has to strive to ignore the immediate protest his cock puts up at the thought of her leaving it.

“No,” he blurts on its behalf, before realising her suggestion isn’t a bad idea, “I mean, yes. Wait, I mean –”

Apparently his usual smoothness got lost at some point earlier. Probably when she gave him that squeeze, along with a fair chunk of his pride.

But still! He’s the great Maui, legendary demigod, Hero to All. A kiss _really_ shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s given and received plenty of them before, both before and during and after sex, oh yes, lots of kissing – so why should he be freaking out now?

Damn it, he _isn’t_ freaking out!

Except… he kind of is. Okay, be calm, be cool. Moana’s waiting – still amused and, by now, possibly a little confused. Answer her properly, Maui. Say something sexy and suave.

“Uh…” No, not that!

“What _did_ you mean?” A definite smirk begins twitching at the corner of Moana’s mouth as one of her eyebrows rises, “I can _hear_ your brain creaking with all that thinking going on.” She seems to think of something herself then, sobering somewhat as she considers him, her other eyebrow joining the first: a return of her ‘sincere’ face.

“Come on,” she prompts encouragingly, “I told you what _I_ wanted earlier. You can tell me. I promise I won’t find it weird or laugh at you.” Honesty compels her to add, “Much.”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? That she might find it weird (yeah, or laugh at him. There's a fair chance she'll do that).

It’s the same concern from at the start of this, returned to nag at Maui, reminding him that Moana’s his best friend – the closest, truest friend he’s had in a long time (even excluding those thousand years). That, however much Moana claimed sex won’t change their friendship, kissing her seems somehow – he really doesn’t want to admit it – _riskier_ than everything else they’ve done so far.

Maui can’t think of any reason _why_ kissing her might seem ‘risky’, of course. Because it would just be a kiss. Simply more practice for Moana; showing her how it’s done. Nothing to it. But –

But.

And this is the real crux of it, of what’s bothering him: what if he kisses her and _Moana_ freaks out?

Argh, he should have just gone for it. Made his move, giving her a moment to realise what he was about to do and smack him in the face, and then laugh it off.

“It’s something _really_ perverted, isn’t it?” Moana theorises, an echo of her glee from earlier entering her gaze. She tips her head as she ruminates upon the possibilities. “There’s plenty more we haven’t done yet, right? That we could do?”

“Yup, all sorts,” Maui agrees, gladly welcoming the distraction from his thoughts and grinning a bit at the prospect, immediately itching to know what Moana might come up with.

Now he’s not at all sure he wants to admit he was stuck on something as innocent as kissing.

Moana purses her lips in continued speculation, her index finger wandering out to draw idle shapes on his stomach as if redesigning his tattoos.

“So if you’re getting flustered –” He isn’t getting _flustered!_ “– Then I think what you _meant_ , when you asked me to ‘come here’, is that you were hoping I would –”

“ _Gah!_ ”

Maui’s uncertain whether he or Moana is more surprised by the noise that bursts out of his mouth right then or the upper body lurch that accompanies it. _Damn it!_ He _really_ wants to know what she was going to suggest. But something – rather, some _one_ – has just delivered a hard, sharp and completely unexpected – _and_ _uncalled for_ – pinch to his nipple.

Well, perhaps it was a tiny bit called for. But still – _timing!_

“Maui?” Moana asks in obvious surprise.

“Ugh, _sorry_.” Maui’s powerless not to shoot a glare down at his chest and, yes, there’s the little guy, crept out from his hiding place under Maui’s hair on the back of his neck, one of the places he goes when his larger self needs some privacy. The little tattoo stares up at him with a ‘so what you going to do about it?’ expression clear as anything on his face, as he spreads his inked hands in a shrug.

_Just hurry up and kiss her!_ he seems to say.

Yeah, yeah, the meaning of the pinch was obvious enough. But they’ve had _words_ in the past about the little guy cockblocking him – or, rather, Maui has ranted and threatened, and his tiny doppelganger has shrugged and spread his hands much like now. And smirked.

Maui is aware his smaller self might be a bit of a voyeur. If anything, it’s amazing he hasn’t made an appearance before now.

“Oh!” Moana exclaims as Maui raises his hand to apply a well-deserved swat, catching his wrist and causing him to reluctantly halt, “It’s little you!” She shifts position so she can place a hand on Maui’s shoulder, using him casually for balance as she smiles and addresses the tattoo, “I wondered where you’d gone during all this.”

The little guy preens at her attention, flipping his hair and striking a pose. Moana laughs. She reaches out a finger of her other hand, glancing up at Maui to check she can touch. He’s torn between grumbling at the interruption and at how obviously taken with Moana his smaller self is (always has been), so he just nods and she completes the action, poking the little guy gently in the stomach. The tattoo wriggles away from the ticklish touch, clutching his belly and silently chuckling.

“Does he –” Moana starts, her smile lingering although one of her brows lowers in the tiniest frown. She looks up at Maui in askance. “Does he feel what _you_ feel?”

Maui knows the little tattoo has at least _some_ shared sensation going on – no doubt the real reason for his past interruptions, whatever he claims about ‘curiosity’ – but he finds he hesitates before answering, having no idea how Moana will react. Although, knowing her, she’ll probably roll with it.

“Not exactly,” he hedges, going for the easiest and shortest explanation for the time being, and offering the reassurance of “And he knows when to pay no attention.” Then amends it with a glower for the tattoo, who looks rightfully abashed: “ _Should_ know.”

“Mm, okay,” Moana scratches the little guy lightly on the chin with a fingernail – he leans into it appreciatively, eyes closed – and Maui breathes a silent sigh of relief, glad she doesn’t appear put off. There might have been one or two partners in the past who kind of – well, freaked out. Or wanted to know _far_ too much detail when they should have been having sex instead.

Hmm, thinking about having sex…

Just before Maui can get _too_ put out by the interruption (the little guy’s enjoying this _way_ too much), Moana draws her finger back briefly, her lips twitching in amusement before she prods the tattoo’s ass, startling him into scurrying around much like that chicken of hers. He flaps his arms up at her in enquiry.

“Come on, little one, off with you now,” she laughs, her hand going out to rest on Maui’s forearm, fingers squeezing as if to say she hasn’t forgotten him. The look she shoots him sparkles, implying she’s aware he was on the verge of a sulk. “The big people have got things to do with each other. Alone.”

“Yup,” Maui smirks in agreement when the tattoo holds his little hands up to beg for just one more moment, “Go on; scram.” His dick has been very patient during the interlude, although if it could, it would be complaining volubly about the neglect.

“N-no, wait!” Moana breathes, her eyes widening, hand tightening on his arm, and Maui twitches as there’s _another_ interruption – a second pair of tiny inked feet pattering out from hiding and across his chest to join his miniature self.

Moana’s resultant smile is as radiant as he’s ever seen it and so Maui has to forgive the little tattoos, just a bit.

He definitely _doesn’t_ feel a slight pang of jealousy at the sight of how delighted she is, knowing it’s not because of him. That would be pathetic.

“It’s little me! Moving!” Moana cries – and Maui remembers the years that have passed and how Moana has rarely seen her smaller self, much less interacted with her. She looks like she has a _lot_ she would like to say to the little tattoo, but bursts out laughing before she can get any of it out, letting go of Maui to clap both hands over her mouth, shooting an almost guilty look up at him.

Maui gets a bad, bad feeling about what _those two_ are doing right now.

“What’s he doing to her?” he asks even as he looks down to find out.

“It’s more what _she’s_ doing to _him_ ,” Moana snickers and Maui takes in a shallow breath, glad she’s focusing back on their antics and not on him –

Because Mini Moana has caught hold of his miniature self, tucking him snug up against her side, her arms wrapped around him, pressing him close as she can. Both tattoos flash wide smiles up at their larger counterparts, right before Mini Moana spins the little guy around, dips him and plants a big smooch straight on his mouth.

Mini Maui – there’s no other word for it – _swoons_.

Maui slaps a hand over them both, banishing them with enough fervour he leaves a handprint on his chest. And _that_ – he realises the instant he does it – is the most incriminating reaction he could have. Because Moana’s attention instantly transfers back onto him and there’s not only laughter, but surprise and interest and – he curses internally – dawning _realisation_ in her gaze.

“So when you said ‘come here’ –” she starts, but he cuts her off.

“Nope.”

She ignores him, “What you _actually_ wanted –”

“I didn’t.” It’s pure reflex for him to argue, along with a smidgen of something he refuses to label as ‘nerves’.

Placing her hand back on his shoulder to boost herself up, Moana stands, drawing very close to him. Maui leans away out of self-preservation, but she follows. “What you actually _wanted_ was for me to –”

“No way!” He waves a hand, rolling his eyes, dismissing the very _possible_ notion of –

“ _Kiss_ you,” Moana finishes triumphantly and, before he knows it, she sticks her other hand on the top of his head to hold him in place, fisting her fingers in his curls, and swoops in.

It’s a loud, firm smacker of a teasing kiss.

Maui’s mouth is unfortunately partly open. Before he can think to close it – or do anything at all, except sit there, stunned – Moana pauses, her laughter vanishing, her mouth going still against his for a moment before she begins to pull back.

“Um,” she says.

Maui can’t answer her.

He can’t even properly process her tone of voice. He knows he should let her finish drawing back, to explain why she paused and –

And he knows he really should _not_ do what he does next.

Because what Maui _does_ do is this: his hand goes out, his fingers catching on the curve of Moana’s jaw, guiding her back in towards him and covering the rest of the distance between them himself to steal another kiss.

It’s awkward.

That much is immediately apparent. Her mouth is smaller than his – or rather, his is _bigger_ than hers – and it’s obvious that some positioning will be needed to make it a success, but Moana’s already stiffened up, which isn’t a good sign _at all_. Her fingers tighten in his hair, but she doesn’t pull.

Maui at least has the presence of mind to end it almost as quickly as she ended the first one, releasing her so she can straighten up, immensely grateful when Moana flashes half a smile at him despite the discomfort in the rest of her expression.

It is of no relevance whatsoever if his heart sinks a bit at the sight of it (or if _other parts_ are holding an absolute pity party in his lap).

“Sorry,” he says, because he damn well owes her an apology, “It’s okay if you don’t want to – to do that. To kiss. More than okay. I shouldn’t have –” He grimaces, struggling to maintain eye contact. Cursing himself for a coward.

It’s not a feeling Maui’s accustomed to or one that he _ever_ wants to experience again.

He makes himself say it, “It was wrong of me to do that.”

Especially when he had determined at the beginning that he would make sure that Moana wanted and consented to everything he did. Especially when she was already pulling away.

“Please don’t apologise,” Moana crouches down next to him, near enough he can feel the warmth of her body, her proximity melting something that has frozen up in him just a bit. “It wasn’t _wrong_ of you to kiss me. I kissed you right beforehand, didn’t I? You didn’t take me by surprise and I didn’t mind.”

That’s still not exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Far from it. But never mind that.

“It’s just…” Moana sighs but, if anything, it seems her frustration is aimed at herself.

She is fretting at her skirt, her fingers tangling in the material, and Maui dares to reach out to cover her hand with his, telegraphing the motion to give her time to draw away, seeking to offer calm. Moana glances up at him at this, looking grateful and a little weary, surprising Maui by turning her hand up beneath his and linking their fingers together. Hers are strong and slender around his larger ones; he can feel rope calluses from wayfinding on her palm.

He can’t stop looking at her hand holding his, although his brain is telling him to let go and pull away. After what just happened, it’s too – too –

Moana shifts in towards Maui to lean on his arm, her warmth soaking into him. The rain is still rattling on the roof of the little hut, he realises. When did he get so cold? He could do with his lavalava right about now, if he hadn’t destroyed it. He’s not prim enough to draw his legs in to shield himself, but – yeah.

His ego isn’t the only thing that’s wilted.

“I didn’t mean to react like I did,” Moana confesses, “The awful truth is that I kissed you to tease you and _I_ should apologise for that. As soon as I did it, I realised I shouldn’t have done.” So that's why she paused. “But even – even considering what those two little ones were doing, I still didn’t…”

She hesitates, grazing the fingertips of her free hand over her lips. Maui tries not to watch this; tries to simply look at her patiently while she gathers her thoughts; tries to set his own feelings on the matter aside and just listen to his best friend. He doesn’t like to admit that putting someone else before him is not something he had a habit of doing in the past, but he’d like to believe he’s getting better at it.

Moana certainly deserves to be put first.

She continues, “In all honesty, I suppose I didn’t _truly_ believe that you actually wanted to kiss me, whatever our tattoo selves implied.” _Implied_ is one way to put it. “And I – I was curious, but I was also messing around. I thought it would be funny and it wasn’t. Instead, it was…”

Maui’s not sure whether to be glad or not it doesn’t seem he’ll find out what.

Moana says, “But then, when _you_ kissed _me_ …” He’s already wincing, even before she admits, “When you kissed me, all I could think about was my cousin.”

Well, damn.

His gaze lands on the familiar presence of his hook where it’s propped against the wall, forgotten (as much as he ever forgets it) until now. It’s preferable to looking at Moana in that moment.

“You really _did_ want me to kiss you, didn’t you?” she asks quietly, “Or to kiss me. Both?”

“Nah,” he says and, to his relief, it comes out lightly enough, “Look, not trying to change the subject –” He is “– But you thirsty?” He’s aware of how late it is; remembers how Moana earlier said she needed something to drink. Any tipsiness either of them had from the fermented coconut is long gone.

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana says and glances at the exit to the little hut, “I promise I’ll explain what I meant about my cousin. Just a moment.”

Before Maui can offer to go in her place, she jumps up, darting outside and leaving him to sit looking after her, picking at the remains of his lavalava – _not at all_ morosely, thank you very much. It’s only moments before she reappears, her hair and skin damp, carrying a big leaf full of rainwater that she tips into one of their finished drinks from earlier, offering it to him.

“Go ahead,” Maui gestures for her to have it, but she insists on only drinking half, stubbornly pressing the rest into his hand. And so he drinks it and she snuggles up against him again and, after a moment, he lifts his arm and puts it around her, tucking her into his side just like he did earlier, feeling her dry against him. Maui uses his other hand to brush rainwater off her cheeks and forehead, smoothing his fingers through her hair, and Moana breathes out a soft sigh that raises goose-pimples as it gusts over his skin.

“I hope what I said didn’t disappoint you,” Moana says and he makes a dismissive noise.

“Course not.” Of course it did.

Moana’s mouth quirks to one side, implying she sees right through the denial. “You remember what I said about it being failed sex, with my cousin?” As if Maui could forget. Some of that detail is burned into his mind, to his regret. “Well, if you ever want an example of failed kissing, my cousin can provide you with one.”

Yeah, no thanks.

“I’m not saying it was the same when you kissed me,” Moana explains, “At all.” _Thank the gods._ “It’s just that… I froze up. I couldn’t help but worry that it might _become_ like it. My cousin’s approach to kissing was…was…”

Apparently lost for words, she opens her mouth wide and sticks her tongue out, waggling it about frantically, making stabbing motions. It looks like she’s having some sort of fermented coconut induced fit.

“Gross,” she concludes.

Maui has to force himself to blink and try to delete that little performance from his brain. If she had to endure that for her first kiss – and he’s certain it _was_ her first kiss – he can understand why she was put off.

“Er, most people don’t kiss like that,” is the best he can manage and, he hopes, the fairest to Moana – rather than pointing out that _he_ definitely does not kiss like that and, oh by the way, would she like to give him another chance to prove it to her?

“I would hope not!” Moana gestures to indicate the extent of her horror, “It was like being attacked by an octopus. Or like I’d got something stuck in my throat and my cousin was trying to get it out with their tongue. And all the spit! I didn’t know what to do – was I expected to drool or swallow it?”

Okay, yeah, now Maui kind of wants to shudder.

“You, um,” he edits what he was going to say, “No, you probably shouldn’t swallow it.”

Not this cousin’s spit, that’s for sure. The doubts he was already harbouring about them are growing severe. When he hunts them down tomorrow, Maui will have to expand his ‘talk’ to include a section on basic courtesy and hygiene.

“ _Why_ did you decide to do any of this with them, again?” he asks before he can shut himself up, but thankfully Moana just snorts and shoves him, and Maui has to bite down a grin, battling relief at the sheer _normality_ of her reaction.

Maybe, just maybe, things won’t be weird between them in the morning.

“I told you it was spur of the moment,” she says, “Never again.” She flicks a glance up at him, “Whereas…”

Curse it all, that coy little look should _not_ cause a big bubble of hope to swell in Maui’s chest, particularly as he’s pretty much given up on anything else happening tonight as a lost cause. But whether Moana wants to kiss him or not, he’s hardly going to say no to more sex with her.

More sex with her tonight, in fact, would be _fantastic_. And maybe he’ll get a chance to change her mind about kissing, who knows. Show her what it’s like with more skill – and _far_ less spit and octopus tongue.

“’Whereas’?” Maui makes a valiant attempt to sound merely inquisitive.

“Well, you and I were doing a _much_ better job, before we got interrupted,” Moana smiles and, while he’s stuck on the praise, she continues, “Much _,_ much better, in fact. Not even comparable. What we’ve done has been _nothing_ like being with my cousin at all.”

Now _that’s_ good to hear (and a massive relief). Maui has to suppress a pleased smirk, puffing up, feeling his confidence returning from wherever it had gone. _At_ _last_.

“Do you still want to talk more about this cousin?” he nonetheless feels compelled to ask. He _really_ doesn’t want to but, as her best friend, he’s willing to keep listening if she does – and he won’t even complain about it.

Much.

“ _No_ ,” Moana says. She pulls a face, “Will you… _Would_ you still like to do more? Even after me freaking out like that? I haven’t put you off?”

No, she hasn’t put him off. It makes all the difference to know she wasn’t freaking out about _him_. Maui has the suspicion the answer is evident on his face, because Moana laughs, clearly relieved herself. She tugs at him, seemingly trying to pull him on top of her. She’s not going to have any luck unless he lets her, but it’s admittedly amusing to watch.

“If _you_ still would,” Maui says, to be sure, “You don’t just want to go to sleep?” Her parents being particularly early risers and all that.

“Yes!” she grins, “And _no_ , I don’t just want to go to sleep!” and so he relents, moving forwards in answer to her command, letting Moana do with him as she will. She rolls herself gracefully under him, her dark hair pooling around her on the floor, hands on his shoulders, drawing him down.

She says, “Come on, help me forget about this cousin.”

Maui can _definitely_ do that.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

“So,” Moana asks brightly. She’s getting herself comfortable beneath him, tucking an arm behind her head, “Going to put it in me now?”

They’re finishing getting themselves situated: their legs a bit tangled, Maui’s weight on his arms and knees, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at her. He’s endeavouring not to crowd Moana or loom or overwhelm or – or whatever, close enough that she brushes against him each time she moves, his dick catching in her skirt. It makes him remember earlier when she sat on him and straddled his hips. When he pushed that skirt up so he could go down on her. Wonderful memories, those.

Still, it’d be _great_ if she’d take the thing off.

“Yes?” Maui answers before he even registers what Moana’s said, preoccupied with the flex and shift of her body as she stretches. It doesn’t draw his attention to her breasts _at all_. Not in the slightest. He’s just… looking at her chest.

That’s not really a better way to put it.

Okay, so he’s looking at Moana’s breasts. That is, beneath her top. It would be nice to think she might remove it at some point – soon! – along with the skirt. Her breasts look just the right size for his hands as far as he can make out; just the right size for his mouth. Maui doesn’t need to think about it to recall the feel of them pressing warm and soft against his thigh when she was leaning on him, torturing his cock in all the best of ways, and –

Wait, _what_ did she say? Put ‘it’ in her? Right now?

His cock has forgotten all of its woes from earlier. If it could, it would smack Maui in the head for not leaping at the opportunity immediately. If it could, it would sing out its answer to Moana’s question loud and clear: _h_ _ell yes!_

But as much of an argument it puts up, the enthusiastic agreement sticks in Maui’s throat. He can’t deny the sneaking suspicion that his dick is right about one thing – that Moana does indeed mean immediately _._ And attempting to penetrate her immediately would be –

Well.

He knows better than to let his dick make the decision.

“’Yes?’” Moana repeats, “Are you answering my question with a question?” There’s a spark of humour in her eyes, belying the tiny pout tugging at one side of her mouth: she’s noticed his distraction, of course. “Does that mean you’re _not sure_ if you want to do it, after all?”

“Am I ‘ _not sure’_?” One of Maui’s eyebrows rises to illustrate the vast extent of his disbelief as he tears his gaze away from her breasts in order to give Moana a _look_. “Of course I’m damn well – wait.”

However sure he may be or not, that’s _beside the point_.

“Okay,” he drags a breath in. Goes for the most important concern, “Hang on a moment and tell me – do you mean _immediately_?” Really, Maui’s not even that surprised if she does. It’s entirely like Moana to want to just… forge ahead.

“Yes, why not?” Moana shrugs, “If you’re _up_ for it –” She wriggles meaningfully and he twitches as she rubs up against _sensitive parts_ “– then I am, too.”

Yeah, Maui’s _up_ for it all right. But again: beside the point.

“Yeah, I can tell you are, but...” He doesn’t know quite whether to smirk. It’s obvious she thinks she’s ready. He’s just fairly certain that she’s _not_. But as Moana has proved many times in the past, she’s never one to be easily swayed when set on a course of action.

“Great, so if that’s sorted...” she grins and removes her arm from behind her head to start fishing between them for her skirt, _very_ nearly grabbing his cock instead. Maui has to do an ungainly sort of jerk backwards to avoid her touching it, because that would be _it_. Good intentions gone.

And as much as he wants the skirt off, that isn’t it.

“Hey,” Transferring most of his weight onto one elbow to free up a hand, Maui tries touching Moana’s hair to get her attention; pokes her on the forehead when that doesn’t work. “Why don’t you let me –”

“It’s all right; I’ll get it,” she misunderstands, persisting in her mission.

“Moana,” Maui clears his throat, trying a poke to her cheek, “Not what I meant. Listen.” This makes her dart a look up at him, although she doesn’t stop groping. Maui rolls his eyes.

“Listening,” Moana claims, but she isn’t really. She’s wrestling with her skirt; her every move, every brush of skin and material against him unravelling his resolve that much more.

“I can’t undo this thing while I’m under you,” Moana sighs, her struggles lessening, “It’s too fiddly and I don’t want to damage it –” She brightens again “– but I _can_ pull it up.”

At any other time, Maui would get out of her way and gladly offer to help. At any other time, he’d slow her down nice and easy; pick one of the many methods he could employ to distract her. But –

“There; that’s better!” Moana succeeds with far greater ease in her quest to tug the skirt up.

_But –_

Self-restraint is so difficult right now Maui can barely even move, let alone remember what he was going to say.

“Come on, you don’t need to hold back,” Moana tells him, as she’s apparently under the impression he needs _more_ encouragement, “It’ll be easy; we can do it like this.” She raises a knee and braces it against him in demonstration, angling her other leg out a bit to the side.

There’s nothing left between them now. Nothing to stop him from doing what they both want – nothing except for Maui himself.

His brain felt like it broke earlier. Now it’s just _stopped._

“Um, that’s…” he manages. So many things he can’t even begin.

“I don’t reckon I can get my legs around your really wide hips,” Moana observes, “But this should be okay, right? Not much room, but… enough.”

If he could speak, Maui would point out that his hips are not ‘really wide’ – it is simply that he is big while Moana is small.  And _that_ is the very problem here: the critical element of his objection to this otherwise fantastic plan of hers.

Because while _he_ is in proportion, so is _she_.

“Maui?” Moana prompts, her fingers closing on his arms, looking up at him expectantly. It’s her ‘ready’ face.

And he can’t say no to that face. Can’t say no to anything she asks of him, really (which might just be how all of this started). But he also can’t say yes. Because Moana was right when she said it’d be easy. It would be so very easy – for him.

“Sorry, I – Just give me a sec,” Maui swipes his hand hard over his face. What she must think of him.

But it seems Moana’s forgotten her earlier concern about their size difference. Or, no, he doubts she’s forgotten it. She’s ignoring it. Determined to power ahead anyway – which isn’t the way to go about it at all.

And Maui will never risk hurting her. Never. Not for the world.

And, just like that, with that knowledge at the forefront of his mind, Maui’s battle with his body is _over_. He’s done with it. He’s not going to do anything that could cause Moana even the slightest bit of pain and that’s final.

The relief of doing the right thing is profound.

Maui’s grin is nonetheless a little ragged at the thought of _just_ how close he came to giving in to temptation, but his next inhalation is much deeper and easier.

“Are you okay?” Moana asks. There’s an amount of curiosity along with flicker of uncertainty rising in her gaze (he curses himself), but her expression is still set to ‘ready’ –

And these faces she makes never fail to make Maui want to laugh, whatever the situation; regardless of anything else. He’s helpless not to find them entertaining.

He’s helpless not to find them _ridiculously_ endearing.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says a little hoarsely, hearing emotion clogging his voice, doing his utmost to swallow it down. Moana is still looking up at him, meeting his eyes, waiting for him to get his act together and he just –

Maui laughs a little. It’s that or – well.

He’s not about to kiss her again without express permission and a _very_ clear invitation.

So.

“Hey,” he says instead.

“Hey,” she gamely replies, although her eyebrow is inching upwards and she’d be well within her rights to be annoyed, to go and get that oar of hers and give him a few smacks. “Going to… do anything, perhaps?” she asks, “Like move?”

“Hmm,” Maui strokes Moana’s shoulder with his free hand seemingly absently, pretending to consider her request. Thinking of how good she is to him, how he doesn’t deserve it (at all, at the moment) and how patient she’s been. Although he _knows_ that patience will have a limit.

He doesn’t battle the smirk that creeps onto his face at that thought.

“Do you know I’m _not sure_ ,” he says.

A frown dimples her forehead and Moana opens her mouth to argue, and Maui – finally, _finally_ – allows himself to move, lowering his hips to slide his cock ever so lightly against her leg. Moana’s knee is still braced against him, her legs still parted, and so his cock rubs up easily over her inner thigh.

Moana’s eyes widen and she takes in a breath. Taking care to time it just right, Maui draws back just before making contact with her sex. She lets out a little huff and he has to repress a laugh. Pleased and amused by her reaction, he does the same thing again.

“I think you _are_ sure,” Moana squints up at him as her fingers tighten on his arms in both arousal and protest – she has him rumbled all right. “But are going to tell me what dilemma you were having just now? I thought you said earlier we should _talk_ about it.”

Er, yeah. Caught out, Maui chuckles sheepishly, “Can we, um, talk about it afterwards? I was just –”

“Overwhelmed?” Moana suggests.

He has to hide a wince at that word, “I wouldn’t say that –”

“Freaking out?” Moana supplies more accurately. Her expression implies she’s about to insist on more detail, but then she grins, relenting, “I’ll let you off the hook –” Thanks for that, Moana, “– for now, if it means you _move_.”

“Appreciate it,” Maui shakes his head at her joke, laughing a bit more in relief, and pushes against her thigh a little more firmly, a little nearer to where she wants, still nice and slow. Moana’s legs flex around him, her thighs tightening. He says, “You mean move like this?”

“Y–yes,” she says with some suspicion: she knows him too well.

“How’s this?” Maui asks innocently all the same, rocking in against her again and coming _very_ close to her sex, _just_ touching it, feeling her warmth kiss his cock. “Is _this_ how you mean?”

“Is _that_ what you’re not sure about? Because you’re getting there,” Moana replies, evidently deciding to play along – to an extent. Maui anticipates it when she pushes up to meet him and evades her, making her swear.

“Am I?” he cheerfully asks.

There’s a discernible flush creeping down Moana’s neck, spreading over her chest to disappear beneath her top. Maui drinks in the sight of it, drawing his hand up from her shoulder to stroke the side of her neck, her collarbone, feeling the warmth of her skin. When Moana doesn’t complain, he smooths his palm down over her sternum, slipping his fingers under the material, letting his thumb graze the swell of a breast. Her top catches against the back of his knuckles as she inhales, making a tiny sound, and Maui revels in the softness of her breast as he cups it in his palm.

Lovely. Touching her like this, it’s just – lovely.

“This all right?” he checks, just in case.

Moana nods – “Go ahead” – and so ahead Maui goes, grinning, thumb and forefinger finding her nipple and playing with it, feeling it pebble.

“Oh,” Moana’s mouth loosens. She arches her back, pushing up against his hand. “That feels –”

“Good?” Maui provides, unable to help himself, “Great?” and it makes her laugh.

“Are you hinting? Because I’ll do the same for you, if you like.” Her fingers press harder into his biceps as he shifts his fingers, widening his attention to include her other breast. “Later,” she pointedly adds.

“That a promise?” Maui asks nonetheless. Because _yes_. He knows some men don’t have much sensation there – some women, too – and partners in the past sometimes all but ignored that part of him, but it’s always been a weakness of his.

And once she realises, knowing her, Moana might well take advantage of it.

“Sure,” she agrees and, very happy, Maui moves his hips against her again, pressing more of his body against hers, a longer and even _slower_ slide.

His dick nudges a joyful hello to her sex.

“ _Oh,_ ” Moana’s teeth dig into her lower lip, one of her hands releasing its clench on Maui’s arm to fly up and bury in his curls. He makes himself pause, idly circling a nipple, just enjoying the feeling of her breasts against his fingers and palm, her wetness against his cock; just watching Moana until she looks up at him.

“Are you waiting for a _formal invitation_?” she challenges when he does nothing further, “Because I’ll give you one.”

The way she says it sounds like a threat.

“Oh, do you want me to move again?” Maui has to stifle a laugh. He adjusts his angle, rocking against Moana with careful precision and yet more pressure, “Like this, perhaps?”

And yes.

_Oh_ yes, like this. His cock glides up the length of her sex, parting her outer lips, the head of his dick bumping against her clit. It feels so awesome he does it again.

And again, for good measure.

“ _Yes_ , much like that,” Moana says. The more he does it, the more she starts trying to suppress little noises that can only be called moans, her entire body reacting, moving her hands to wrap her arms around his neck, trying to drag him even closer.

Maui can feel her arousal increasing; can feel her getting even wetter against his cock. It twitches in approval right up against her sex and he has to suppress a strangled noise of his own.

“You’re _really_ _nearly_ getting it right,” Moana gets out, her face flushing now. She’s eyeing him sideways even as she squirms against him, widening her legs yet further and bracing her feet, one on the floor and the other slung over his thigh, rocking back up against him. Maui pushes in and up against her – still gently, but with a little less carefulness, a little uncoordinated in his own mounting need - and feels the edge of his foreskin catch on the hood of her clit. The feel of it sends a bright shock right through him, a garbled moan of his own bursting out of his mouth.

_That’s_ –

Well, however awesome it is – and it really is – Maui’s willpower _is_ finite and he hasn’t come yet tonight, unlike Moana. If he doesn’t give his dick a breather, that’s going to change.

And besides, Moana’s legs really can’t be enjoying that position.

“Only ‘really nearly’?” Maui says in mock disappointment, “Well, that’s no good.” He stops moving against her, withdrawing his hand only a little mournfully from her top, and leans back enough to reach it lower between them, caressing the soft curve of Moana's stomach, grimacing at the skirt where it’s bunched around her waist.

“What are you –” Moana begins and Maui just lets his hand travel down further in answer, thumb crinkling through her pubic hair towards her sex, making her hiss and grab his wrist.

“Okay?” he asks. It certainly felt like a grab of encouragement, but he’s not going to presume.

“Okay, but why stop what you were doing before?” Moana chides when he shifts his hips away from hers next. Maui gives her a quirk of an eyebrow and a little rueful grin, removing his dick to a safe distance, propping himself on his side next to her. Her gaze immediately homes in on his cock as understanding births in her face, “Oh, _that’s_ why: you were going to – oh, ouch, my legs –”

Moana's knee slips, no longer braced as it was against him, and she cuts herself off with a groan, rubbing her thigh with her free hand and stretching out both of her legs. Her whole body shakes as she does this, fingers squeezing Maui's wrist. “Okay, much better: you’re forgiven for stopping _yet again_. Maybe.”

So long as he’s forgiven. Maybe. Maui's grin broadens, his hand stirring from its resting place on her crotch once she’s rearranged herself. Moana pushes his hand insistently against her sex as soon as he reaches it and he acquiesces readily, stroking her outer lips.

“That okay?” he double checks, even as he extends his other arm on the floor, angling it near Moana’s head and glancing meaningfully from her to it.

“Yes. No more stopping now,” Moana agrees – almost a warning – pushing onto her side to face him and pillowing her head on his forearm, accepting his offer, still keeping hold of his other wrist. She crooks her knee, widening her legs a bit, and Maui dips his thumb down among her folds, finding her clit, watching her breasts rise beneath her top as she gasps. She’s warm and wet down there, and _yes_ –

“No more stopping,” he confirms. _So_ done with all the interruptions. He refrains from mentioning the skirt: if she can endure it, so can he.

“You’d better not,” Moana sends her free hand out to grab at his curls again, winding a few of them around her fingers. She gives a determined pull, making Maui bow his head closer to hers, near enough to inhale each other’s breath.

“Ow,” he says, not really meaning it, too close now to focus on anything other than Moana’s face, trying to avoid looking at her lips. They are, after all, very close to his.

He damn well isn’t going to start thinking about kissing her again.

“How’s this?” He runs the ball of his thumb over Moana’s clit instead, serious now, no longer teasing, curling two fingers gently down towards her opening.

“Yeah, like that,” she says, a tremor running up through her torso, “Even if you can’t seem to put _anything else_ in me, can you manage those?”

Maui grins, “I reckon so,” and obliges, easing one in slowly and then the other, a groan rumbling deep in his chest as he drinks in the little noises she makes as he fingers her.

She’s as tight as he remembers and just the thought of getting to put ‘it’ in –

Maui’s damn well glad he didn’t go ahead with her plan and try to just penetrate her _immediately_ because, as Moana herself pointed out, there’s little enough room to move in there - not entirely aided by her current position - and that’s only with his fingers.

“Come on,” she’s saying, squeezing his wrist until it tingles, “Come on; more _,_ ” and reaches down to grab hold of his knuckles and encourage him to move faster.

Maui smirks, working his fingers further inside her, angling his thumb higher on her clit, pressing upwards to expose more of it from its hood, rubbing it. She jumps and pants.

“Okay?” he asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana says, adding hastily “Carry on, carry on; _don’t stop_.” She jerks her hand in his hair for emphasis, making Maui bite his lip at the sting, his cock throbbing hard in response.

Yup, that would be another weakness of his right there.

Moana’s breathing fast against him, her mouth not far from his jaw, blinking and struggling to focus. It’s getting easier for Maui to move his fingers inside her as her arousal builds and he stretches her, feeling a streak of wetness trickle down to his palm as he opens her up for him.

“Okay to try a third finger?” he asks, “Or do you want to come first and then try?” and Moana’s face screws up, like she can’t make that decision right now.

Then she nods – “go on, try it” – and so he does, spreading the fingers he already has inside her as he very gently tries the third, just testing.

Moana yelps, her inner walls flexing around him, bucking her hips, her fingers going loose and lax in his hair. In contrast, she’s got a death grip on his hand between her legs.

“I –” she tries to speak, sweat dampening her forehead, her breasts rising and falling sharply beneath her top as she pants, “Going to come. Very soon. If I do – will you still – ah –”

Maui knows what she’s asking, “ _Yes_ , I’ll still put ‘it’ in.”

“Oh good, be–because I had really started thinking you didn’t actually _want_ to,” Moana laughs even as she’s tensing up further, her hand trembling against his, “I’m going to – to hold you to that.” She attempts to keep speaking, “Maui –”

“Uh-huh?” Now his hair isn’t in danger, he leans back a bit to see what he’s doing to her, still just testing with his third finger, spreading the other two out further and deeper each time he slides them into her, keeping up his attention to her clit.

“Will you – will you kiss me again?” Moana asks in a sudden rush and Maui snaps his head up to stare at her. He at least manages to keep his hand moving, although he’s unable to keep his reaction off his face.

Moana continues just as quickly, gaze roving over his expression, teeth chewing briefly at the side of her lip, “I – I know it’s unfair of me and I _know_ I shouldn’t ask after earlier and – and especially now, but I _really_ want you to and will – will you _please_ –”

It’s probably the least articulate Maui’s ever heard her sound.

He can’t refuse her.

Even though he knows he shouldn’t kiss her for his own damn sake – and for Moana’s, when she’s thinking more rationally. Even though he knows it’s just her impending orgasm prompting the request –

Before he can talk himself out of it, Maui covers the scant few inches between their mouths and kisses her. 

Moana _kisses him back_.

She can’t manage much coordination and it’s more breath than anything but, still, _she’s_ _kissing_ _him_ and she isn’t teasing like she was before –

Damn it, for all there’s really not much to it, it’s still maybe just possibly one of the best kisses Maui’s had _in his entire life_ for reasons he really doesn’t want to go into and, oh gods _,_ he can’t –

“Ah!” Moana spasms around his fingers as she cries out against his lips, her sex clamping down hard on them as she comes, and she’s still kissing him or trying to, and he _can’t_ –

Maui breaks the kiss.

Before he can think about it, before he can do anything like tell her what he’s going to do or _ask for permission_ , he pulls away from Moana only to kiss the curve of her jaw near her ear and then her neck, shifting his arm out from under her head as he moves his mouth down, kissing her collarbone, her sternum, his freed hand delving back under her top to find a breast, squeezing her nipple.

“All right?” he just about gets out, muffled against her skin, and Moana clutches at him – “yes!” – panting when he moves his fingers inside her again – letting the third one join the others carefully, easier now – although he lets up on her clit, simply holding his thumb lightly against it.

“Maui,” Moana winds around him as he makes his way down her body, his tongue dipping into her belly button, highly tempted to rip that damn skirt off with his _teeth_. Only the fact she obviously values it prevents him. Maui lifts himself up over Moana instead, kneeling back between her legs, coaxing her to move to give him access, encouraging her onto her back.

“Raise your knees,” he tells her, having no hands free to help, and simply buries his face into her sex as soon as she’s done so, hearing her gasp and squeal as his mouth finds her clit.

And then Maui licks her and sucks, and generally takes his time to get her as thoroughly wound up again as possible, and she feels _incredible_ against his fingers and so ready he almost thinks he could fit a fourth finger in as well, with a little work. And that makes him beam and chuckle against her, and before he knows it, Moana is making little high pitched noises of passion and is coming again, thrashing with the force of it, clawing at his shoulders and arms.

“G–gods,” She can’t say any more than that when he releases her, removing his fingers gently and licking them clean, lifting his head to survey the fine mess he’s made of her – she’s panting harder than ever, hair tangled around her head, limbs sprawled, stunned pleasure and amazement on her face.

It’s a good look. The best.

Maui doesn’t need to see himself to know his smirk is the smuggest it can get.

“All right?” he asks again and she nods, flapping a hand at him wordlessly, before plucking at her clothes, making a questioning face up at him. Maui only withholds his whoop of agreement because it would likely wake her whole village.

“These – off,” Moana says and then, her breathing calming a bit, “I think I now get why you didn’t go and do it immediately, like I wanted.” She paws Maui out the way when he fumbles with the ties to her top, his hands gone clumsy with desire, proving more of a hindrance than help.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Mm-hm,” Moana gets the top undone easily, of course, “Even your fingers in me felt… almost _too_ big, especially at first. I’d convinced myself I would be okay just going for it, but –” She wrinkles her nose, mouth screwing up in a little pout, “Thanks for not.”

Maui can’t say he’d expected to be thanked, but he’s undeniably pleased and no little relieved that she gets it. And his response is just _too_ tempting to resist.

“You’re –”

Moana interrupts, handing him her top, “I think you wanted this?”

“I wanted it off _,_ ” Maui tosses it to one side a little vengefully and she laughs. His attention is drawn at once to her bared breasts, but he gives her an enquiring glance.

“You wanted this off even more, didn’t you?” Moana shimmies the skirt down over her hips, doing a complicated little dance to get out of it as quickly as possible. And then she is naked and Maui can’t reply, can't stop looking at her.

Discarding the skirt, Moana returns his grin enthusiastically, reaching a hand out for his cock, pulling him back towards her with just that one touch.

“But now?” she asks, her fingers tugging compellingly at his dick, “You can put this in me now?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Maui agrees with everything in him. He reaches out to gather her against him, cradling her close, “Yes, now.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Please see A/N at end of chapter for a potential trigger.

 

“Oof, okay, wait a moment,” Moana huffs a breath against Maui’s chest right as he blinks, similarly registering something’s gone askew.

He stills the instant he registers her request, “Uh, what –”

“Right, just let me –” Laughter brimming in her voice, Moana tugs at him without effect.

They’ve become tangled somehow: it seems Maui’s body automatically tried to roll him on top of her – propelled by his dick’s gleeful enthusiasm – while, at the same time, Moana sought to clamber on top of him.

So much for Maui’s speech at the start of this about checking they both know what’s going on.

“Damn it, sorry,” he has to laugh, a warm curl of something much like embarrassment licking at the base of his throat. Thank the gods he didn’t accidentally hurt her, but even so – Rolling on top of her like that was hardly smooth.

“It’s all right. I’m just a tiny bit squashed here,” Moana says brightly. Her attempts at helping as Maui seeks to untangle them prove entirely unhelpful, which may well be deliberate: she’s wriggling against him, her naked body sliding all too enticingly against his, and the feeling of it is utterly distracting –

Or, at least, it is before she comes alarmingly close to kneeing him in the balls.

Moana offers reassuringly, “Don’t worry, though; I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Yeah, well, _Maui_ might not survive if she gets him there.

“Hold still a sec,” He succeeds in freeing them from their predicament without any actual damage, breathing a silent sigh of relief as he gets that knee to a safer location, not at all incidentally arranging them so Moana’s more or less under him in the position that she came up with previously.

Moana makes a little noise of recognition, glancing up at Maui at the same time as he bends his head to look down at her. He has to hunch to do so, but the protest his spine puts up is easy to ignore. He’d far rather look at Moana’s face than the floor above her head or the crown of her hair (nice though that hair is).

She grins cheekily up at him, “I was right earlier that this is a good position, wasn’t I?”

“Uh-huh,” Maui agrees, because yes, yes it _is_ good, “But you were trying to climb on top, though? You want to do that instead?”

Really, he can’t say he minds either way. He’s very happy to have Moana underneath him, but if she wants to ride him? Yeah, very happy with that idea too.

“How about I go on top _as well_ rather than _instead_?” Moana suggests and Maui’s certainly not going to object to that plan. Hooking her ankle over his thigh, she gives him a pointed look, “I reckon this will do nicely – again – for now. If you’re finally ready that is, at long long long long _long_ last.”

“Me?” Maui splutters – those should be _his_ words – even as the sight of Moana’s eyebrow rising in clear challenge almost distracts him from lifting his hips and reaching down between them for his cock.

She’s making _his_ face, she’s picked up that expression from _him_. And however Maui might try to deny it, the sight of it never fails to make something feel like it melts inside him.

He would claim it’s his brain, but it feels suspiciously centred in his chest.

Anyway.

Maui clears his throat, wrapping his hand around his dick and squeezing – at the base, as he can’t quite bring himself to grasp where Moana squeezed earlier – dampening his arousal enough to then allow him to swipe precum off the head and onto his fingers and thumb, spreading it as much as possible down the length of his shaft. However much and carefully he’s prepared Moana, he still has the feeling that any extra lubrication will only help.

As he does this, Moana goes extremely still and silent.

“Everything okay?” Maui shoots her an enquiring glance only to find Moana craning her neck, peering down between them to see what he’s doing as best as she can.

“Yeah…” Moana answers absently, her concentration all on what she’s watching. There’s _very_ obvious interest in her tone and all across her face. Maui’s touch slows on his dick as he realises this, his fingers unconsciously tightening.

“Like what you see?” he asks hoarsely, no matter that the answer is obvious. He wants to hear her say it.

“Yeah…” Moana repeats and then shakes herself, flicking a look up at him to check his expression, her eyes dark, “ _Yes_. Would it –” She hesitates, “Would it be bad of me to say I’d like to watch you – do that?”

To watch him do –

Oh. _That_.

Maui’s skin prickles as his dick throbs hard in his hand, his good work _lessening_ his arousal coming completely undone at the thought. He hastily releases his cock, transferring his hand to Moana’s thigh instead.

“Um, no?” He has to wet his lips as he fumbles to answer, voice catching rough in his throat, “That is, no, it wouldn’t be – Er. It wouldn’t be _bad_.” 

She wants to watch him masturbate? As far as Maui’s concerned, that wouldn’t be bad at all. The thought of it – of Moana watching him touch himself, of putting on a show for her – is both unexpectedly and intensely appealing. Although –

Although it also sounds surprisingly personal.

Maui has to firmly remind himself that it is not personal, that none of this is. Had any other partner expressed such a desire in the past – yeah, he wouldn’t have doubted that they wanted to watch him specifically (why _wouldn’t_ they?). But Moana?

He knows better than to even start considering that.

“Only natural you’re curious,” He makes his shrug as neutral as possible. Her curiosity is responsible for everything that’s happening between them now, after all. Maui has the vague thought that perhaps he should _thank_ this cousin of hers for prompting Moana in his direction, but –

Nah.

No, not ‘nah’. More like ‘ _no way’_.

The only way Maui’s going to ‘thank’ that damned useless cousin is with his _fist_. Moana deserves far better than to have endured such a terrible experience. It sucks that it was her first time.

It sucks that it happened at all.

“I _am_ curious,” Moana admits, “I – I wasn’t really, in the past.” She trips her fingers down Maui’s side and then back up again, and he twitches at the tickle.

“I know some of my cousins think I’m strange because of it, but –” Moana gives him a sideways look, “Don’t laugh. I always had other things to do and – honestly, I never really saw the point.”

She’s perhaps the most fulfilled person Maui has ever met, as well as one of the busiest and most active. He can’t say he’s entirely surprised (or tempted to laugh); in fact, it explains a few things. But –

But even so, even knowing that –

Moana’s still eyeing him. A smirk threatens the corners of her lips as she corrects herself, “That is, I never really saw the point _before now_. Before you did that to me with your fingers and mouth.” A different emotion briefly darkens her gaze, “You know, in truth I only took the opportunity with my cousin as I thought I might as well see what I was supposedly missing. It nearly put me off forever.”

Maui can only thank the gods it did not – for Moana’s own sake, more than anything else.

Her smirk returning, she gives him a poke, “But thanks to you, I think I get it now. I really do.”

Maui’s own smirk erupts at full force. He doesn’t even bother to try and quash it.

“You liked that, did you? What I did,” He can’t help but preen: he has no doubt whatsoever she liked it. But –

“Yes, it was all right,” Moana shrugs.

“ _’All right’_?” Maui’s extremely disbelieving protest is regrettably garbled, for she chooses then to slide her hand down his stomach in search of his cock.

Mirth dances in Moana’s eyes, but her tone remains casually offhand, “Yes, like I said, what you did to me was _all right_.”

“I reckon it was a whole lot better than ‘all right’,” Maui mutters in mock offense. He can barely focus on her teasing however, his belly flexing, toes curling as her fingers reach their destination. And then he can barely breathe while Moana angles his cock to her liking, tucking the head snug up against her opening.

“I guess. It wasn’t bad,” she says as she does this, still very deliberately nonchalant, and Maui’s so wound up from holding himself back from entering her until she gives the go-ahead that he might just growl at her a bit.

“I’ll show you _not bad_ ,” he threatens, although he’s also laughing despite himself and then Moana’s relenting, laughing right back at him.

“Please do,” she grins, before narrowing her eyes, identifying something in his expression, “But if you dare ask if I’m ready, _I_ shall smite _you._ I’ll find a way.”

Maui has to laugh at that as well, even though – right at this moment? Yeah, he doesn’t doubt that she’ll smite him. She’s Moana of Motunui, after all (that is, formerly. And as she still occasionally reminds him).

“Now,” Moana nudges her hips up at him, “Push.”

Maui pushes.

And –

And and _and_ –

He doesn’t even have words for how good it feels.

“Ah,” Maui fails to prevent the decidedly embarrassing noise that spills out of him. He doesn’t try to push very far at all: just keeps a firm hold on his self-control and eases up after a couple of heartbeats. Damn but she feels tight around the head of his cock.

“All right so far?” He searches out Moana’s expression.

“Yes. Keep going,” She’s wearing her ‘ready’ face, which makes him grin.

“Oh, if you insist _,_ ” Maui pulls back, not quite entirely, before pressing back in a little deeper. Moana takes in a breath.

“I do insist,” she says and so he repeats this, just a little deeper again. And it’s all kinds of fantastic, but still so tight – _Too_ tight, really. Even as Maui thinks this, Moana makes a low noise in the back of her throat.

“You okay?” He pauses, concerned. That didn’t sound like pleasure.

“Uh-huh,” Moana nods, familiar determination in her gaze.

“ _Sure_ you’re okay?” Maui knows her too well; he isn’t swayed. He stops moving altogether, “Painful? Even a tiny bit?”

“I’m _fine_ ; it’s just a little – Carry on,” Moana flashes a _look_ up at him, the one he always thinks of as meaning ‘ _just get on with it, Maui.”_

He doesn’t. This is too important. “It’s just a little what?” If there’s something wrong –

“I probably just need to get used to it,” Moana’s brow crinkles, at least in part due to Maui not getting on with it.

Maui frowns himself, “Not convinced that’s all it is...”

It _could_ just be that. But she feels tighter down there than he would expect at this point – tighter than he remembers her feeling after giving her those two orgasms. Tighter than he’s comfortable continuing to push against, whatever she says. Given his previous explorations – which would have gone a bit differently otherwise – Maui’s aware Moana doesn’t have a hymen (regardless whatever she did or didn’t do with that cousin, she does enough running and dancing he would imagine it tore long ago), so that isn’t the issue here.

Moana isn’t resisting his attempts to enter her, but she also isn’t nearly as relaxed as she could be – as she _was_ – which means something has caused her to tense up. And how tight she is _isn’t_ the problem: it’s a by-product of it.

Maui’s pretty sure he knows what the actual problem is. After all, his dick is substantially larger than his fingers.

“Okay, tell me,” he cuts to the chase, “My dick feels too big, yeah? Bigger than you expected?"

Yup, the very thing she’d been concerned about at the beginning of all this.

“I don’t want to inflate your head even more than normal by agreeing,” Moana says, which isn’t a denial. She laughs at the scandalised expression Maui gives her for this (his head isn’t inflated! His ego is _precisely_ the size it deserves be).

“But… maybe,” she concedes.

That’s a yes. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana relents. She sighs gustily and wrinkles her nose, “Yes, all right, it does. I confess: your dick feels _really big_ right now.”

Yeah right, it only feels really big ‘ _right now’_. Maui rolls his eyes, grinning all the same and relaxing a fair bit himself; glad they’ve established what’s wrong. Relieved she’s _told_ him about it.

“Well, you feel _amazing_ ,” he says honestly, rather than reminding Moana of her previous plan to attempt penetration by just ‘going for it’ without any preparation. That would have felt a whole lot bigger and _far_ less pleasant.

And besides, she really, really does feel amazing. No harm in telling her that.

“I do?” Moana’s amusement vanishes, replaced by a moment of open surprise as she shoots a startled look up at him before raising her chin, “Of – of course I do!” She battles a smirk, as if trying not to seem pleased.

Affection for her makes Maui huff around his grin.

“You really do,” he confirms. He shifts his weight, bringing the arm he’s been leaning on down from over her head. Resting it at Moana’s side instead, he pushes himself up higher on his elbow, creating more space between them, “Right, let’s change things up; make it easier for you.” First things first: “Can I touch you again?”

He doesn’t need to explain where. Moana repeats her nose wrinkling thing, “I want you to, but I’m probably a little too sensitive there still” – which is fair enough, given she’s had three orgasms tonight already (unlike him). She licks her lips, “Later.”

Maui grins – “That a promise?” – and she echoes it, “ _Sure_.”

So if that’s out: “Rest some of your weight on me?”

Moana nods – “Okay” – and so, just as he did when he first went down on her, Maui spreads his free hand under her to support her ass and lower back, lifting her pelvis up off the floor. Her hands finding a place on his shoulders, Moana adjusts her legs, wrapping them around his waist as best as she can. She can’t get them fully around him, but nonetheless manages to get her knees and ankles into a reasonable hold. Given how much smaller than him she is, Maui’s a little impressed.

“Got you, demigod,” Moana declares triumphantly.

“Yeah, you have,” Maui has _no_ problem with that. He does have to take in a much needed breath however as he feels her sex flex very nicely around his cock, the new angle promising more room to move. He glances down meaningfully at Moana’s legs even so, firming the hand that’s supporting her to take more of her weight, “Definitely okay like this? Seem to remember you saying something about my ‘really wide hips’.”

“I trust you can make it up to me later,” Moana settles her shoulders on the floor. She gives him an equally meaningful look, “I might not be able to stay like this for long though, even with you holding me up.”

Maui knows a hint when he hears one, “Better get on with it then?”

“Mm-hm,” Moana nods.

“Stop me the moment your legs start to ache, okay?” Maui waits for her assent before moving, rocking into her, repressing a groan of pure relief.

It feels easier already.

“I’ll let you know,” Moana hums appreciatively as he resumes his previous pace, “Oh, this angle is better.”

“Uh-huh,” Maui agrees. It really is. But she’s only partly relaxed again yet and so he suggests, “Push down on me? When I –” Speech stalling in his throat, he illustrates his meaning by gently thrusting, carefully judging the depth.

“Mm?” Her fingers spreading against his sides, Moana tightens her knees even further and lifts her pelvis when he pulls back, raising her weight up from his palm. She asks, “Like this?”

Despite having suggested she do it, Maui still startles when she then rocks back into him, meeting his next thrust and pushing down on his dick with her sex.

“Ah gods –” His cock jerks in eager approval and he has to struggle not to destroy any more of the floor. It not only feels incredible, it also very nearly does the trick, the inner walls of her sex noticeably looser in the wake of her push, "Yeah, like that."

Moana both curses and smirks, abruptly faintly flustered but definitely pleased.

“Deeper,” she orders and rocks back up into him again.

“Y-yeah –” This time Maui doesn’t doubt her or hesitate.

“Oh,” Moana bites her lip, meeting him again, matching his movements, “That feels –” This time she continues, “I know this would be easier if you weren’t so _in proportion_ , like I said earlier, but even so – this, now, like this – it feels really good.” She darts a smile up at him, “Maui, you feel really good.”

And for some reason that smile along with the admission makes Maui’s heart fly unexpectedly into his throat. Because working it out between them, getting it right – Having Moana praise him, enjoy what they’re doing together –

Right at that moment, Maui strongly suspects his face says everything he can’t (won’t). Which –

Well, thankfully for once Moana isn’t paying much attention to his expression.

“Come on, deeper,” She’s grabbing at him in pleasure, trying to spur him on, “Don’t keep holding back. I _know_ you are –”

“Moana –” Maui has no chance at stopping his body from obeying, thrusting into her not nearly so gingerly (although he still has to hold back; will always have to hold back) and – and –

_Yes_.

So very much _yes_. He’s in.

Moana’s sex has accepted his cock, relaxing properly, welcoming it in. Maui’s not quite fully inside her (he’d like to claim he’s only  _half_ ), but it's more than he expected, more than enough.

However amazing it felt previously, it now feels superb.

Moana’s fingers are scrabbling at him, her flush from before creeping over her face. She seems to be trying to say something urgently.

“Go on, tell me,” Maui prompts around the clog in his throat (stupid heart) – just what he said to her right at the start of all this. He doesn’t stop moving, but does give her a questioning quirk of an eyebrow.

“Maui, you’re –” Moana gives him an almost wondering look, her own eyebrows flexing as her mouth slowly curves into a massive grin. She blurts, “ _You’re inside me_.”

Maui bursts out laughing.

“You know, I hadn’t noticed,” he says as drily as possible (which isn’t very).

“ _I’ve_ definitely noticed,” That coy expression surfaces in Moana’s dark eyes, “You’re the largest thing I’ve ever had inside me.”

And that’s – _Damn_. Maui’s hips stutter around an aborted thrust as he very, _very_ nearly loses control of both his strength and his ability to hold back.

“You trying to kill me here?” he chokes as Moana smirks.

She says brightly, “Just don’t break any more of the floor,” and oh, is _that_ what she cares about? Maui snorts.

“Anyway, what was I saying?” Moana purses her lips in mock-thought, “Oh yes, I was talking about your dick. In me. About how huge it is.”

Huge, huh? All right, this is a conversation Maui can get behind. He grins broadly, adopting his own version of Moana’s ‘listening’ face.

“Yeah?” he says encouragingly.

Moana interrupts herself with a laugh, bringing a hand up to poke one of his cheeks, “Maui, your dimples. They’re so –”

He blinks, evading the poke, _“_ What?”

“Cute,” Moana finishes, which is far from a word he’s ever used about himself.

"Er - thanks," She means it as a compliment so he’ll take it. Of course Maui’s now tempted to ask what else she finds ‘cute’ about him. Although he would much prefer the descriptor ‘devastatingly handsome’.

“I think you were saying about how you’ve never had anything so incredibly, enormously huge inside you before,” he reminders her instead.

This time it’s Moana who pinches his nipple. Maui yelps – yeah, and this time? Not in pain.

“It’s not _that_ huge,” she corrects before continuing her story, speaking over his protest, “Okay, so you remember mentioning me being curious?”

“Yup,” he remembers.

Moana continues, “Well, I might not have been that interested in sex previously, but I still had – urges.” Maui bets she did (and it’s a topic his imagination would be glad to consider. She wants to watch him do it? _He_ wants to watch _her_ ). Moana pouts, “So I don’t know how much time alone you think I get…”

Hmm, probably very little now Maui considers it. Unless she finds somewhere to sneak off, as far as he knows Moana’s constantly surrounded by friends and family and other assorted members of her tribe, nowadays even most of the time when she’s out at sea.

“Not much,” Maui’s becoming no little curious himself about where she’s leading with this, even if it isn’t about his cock, “Okay if I roll us over? Don’t stop the story.”

“Want me on top now?” Moana’s expression is approving.

“Yup,” he does, “If _you_ want it.”

“Yes,” she agrees happily and so Maui rolls them over, holding her in place against him, keeping his dick inside her as he moves. What better way to save the floor from further destruction than by having Moana on top of him, holding onto her instead?

And if Maui’s holding her, there is absolutely no way he can let himself forget his strength.

Moana arranges herself so she’s basically kneeling on top of him, her legs parted, her hands braced lightly on his abdomen, providing Maui with an excellent view down the length of her body when he raises his head. He spares a thought to regret that it isn’t daytime: he’d love to see her more clearly. Moana doesn’t seem at all displeased herself, her gaze roaming over his torso.

“Feel all right up there?” Maui checks nonetheless. He’s not going to let her fall off, but he still wants to be sure.

“Hmm, yes, _not bad_ ,” A hint of wickedness shines in Moana’s eyes as Maui settles his hands on her waist to steady her. Then she raises herself up on her knees until his dick nearly slips out of her, only to sink back down. Maui bites his tongue.

“Not bad _at all_ ,” Moana amends. She shifts her position slightly, lifts herself up and back down on him again, and then again with more certainty – and, like this, she has all the control. Maui _could_ push up into her, but –

Nah. It’s far too tempting just to let her ride him.

“Fine, you lie there and do nothing,” Moana chides him even as she rolls her hips – making him choke a bit – her expression clearly amused, “I’ll do all the work.”

“I’m waiting for the rest of the story,” Maui explains innocently, although he skims his hands up her sides to play with her nipples, nobly resisting the urge to return her pinch. 

“I’ll tell you the abridged version,” Moana says, her breath coming shorter as he caresses her breasts, a sheen of sweat glimmering at her hairline and the base of her neck as she moves on his cock. Confidence now in the lines of her body and the arch of her back.

In contrast, Maui has to grit his teeth, his own breath stuttering, his body trying to move under hers without conscious input.

“You remember when you kissed me and I came?” Moana asks, which – when phrased like that –

Gods, it makes it sound like she came _because_ he kissed her, but – no, it can’t be, surely not –

Maui can’t answer. It’s all he can do to transfer his hands from Moana’s breasts to the more neutral territory of her elbows, endeavouring with all his might once more to reign himself in. Trying to keep just _how_ interested he is in this implication off his face.

Moana continues cheerfully, “And then you used your mouth to make me come _again_?”

Yeah, not going to forget that, not ever.

“Yes,” It feels very important he makes sure Moana knows this. Maui still can’t say anything further (he might start groaning instead each time she rocks down on him, but he’s not going to admit to it).

Moana’s fingers locate his nipples, but she doesn’t pinch again. Instead she thumbs them, twisting a little at first and then harder – keeping her promise from earlier.

“Gah – ah –” Maui gasps. It’s almost enough to make him come.

At long long long long _long_ last.

“Damn it, _oh_ gods – _Moana,_ that’s –” If he wasn’t so beside himself, Maui would be appalled at the sounds she’s getting out of him. It’s been a _long_ time since he’s come so close to babbling.

Moana’s smirk is fit to rival Maui’s at its best, her gaze filled with amusement and arousal and a fair bit of pride at the effect she’s having on him. She keeps on playing with his nipples, just as she carries on riding him and just as she carries on with her tale.

She says rather breathlessly, “Well, to get back to my story, the short version is this: despite the times I’ve been able to get away in the past and _not_ be interrupted –” She practically forces herself lower on Maui’s dick and he nearly yells. Moana growls, “You wouldn’t believe how often that happens and how _frustrating_ it is –”

Yeah, Maui believes it all right.

“Careful, careful; mind yourself,” He scrabbles at Moana to try and get her to ease up; not to force herself down on him like that again (she _doesn’t_ want a sudden bash to the cervix).

“Despite the rare occasions I wasn’t interrupted, I still had to rush,” Moana persists, her flush darkening her neck again, travelling down her chest, no top for it to disappear under this time. A bead of sweat streaks down her cheek from her temple as she finishes, “And before tonight – before you – I never even _imagined_ it was possible to come more than once in a row like that.”

What.

Maui has to just stare at her for a second, his eyes wide, simply stunned. He’s introduced her to _multiple orgasms_?

Moana smirks a little.

“True story,” she says lightly, “Thanks for that.”

That – That might be his greatest achievement. Ever. Damn it, Maui _really_ hopes he gets a tattoo of _that. And –_

And –

_Fuck_.

He can’t take it.

“Need to turn back over,” He manages to warn her, at least.

Moana grins, “Go for it.”

So he does. Maui slings an arm around her waist, pulling out of her as he lifts her up, turning them both over and getting Moana back under him all in one fairly smooth movement. Sliding back into her easily ( _so_ easy now compared to before), Maui takes over the pace, thrusting as deep and as fast as he dares. It still isn’t quite as much as he would ultimately like, but –

But it’ll do. It’ll do very nicely. He’s so nearly there –

_But_ he still has to check.

Moana’s clutching at him, pulling him as close against her as possible, her face buried in his chest, puffing hot breaths over his skin.

“This okay? _You_ okay?” Maui gasps into her hair, chin grazing the top of her head, struggling to force speech out, once again struggling to breathe. He’s bowing into her, surrounding her with his body, the curls of his hair tangling with hers, his dick driving gloriously into her sex.

If there is any time for Moana to find things overwhelming, this would be it.

“Still – still all right?” _Please_ _say yes_. Because he will make himself stop if Moana asks him to, but it’s going to be beyond difficult. And Maui can’t quantify how much he really doesn’t want to.

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana says, muffled, and he hastily backs up a little to let her speak. She’s rocking her hips up to meet his thrusts again, hands rising to bury in his curls, “Yes, it's very all – all right.”

Maui’s never sent as grateful a prayer to the gods as he does then. Although he kind of hopes they’re not listening right at this moment.

“ _Much_ more than ‘all right’,” Moana continues (and this doesn’t inflate Maui’s ego – or his head – at all), “It’s great. Don’t change what you’re doing. Although –” She twitches, nudging at him with a hand and knee, and Maui just about has the presence of mind left to shift as directed. It makes her moan, “Yes, _that_ angle. Yes, that’s it.”

‘That’s it’ for Maui too – very near enough.

“Hey,” His grin is unquestionably shaky, but he’s unable to resist quoting her all the same, “Going to come. Very soon.”

“I know you are,” Moana replies, amused and also something awfully like _fond_. Maui can’t see her expression like this, as close to her as he is – he can’t _think_ – but there’s still something he should have double checked long ago and definitely not now.

He should have said it right at the beginning.

“You want – want me to – _ah_ – pull out?” he asks instead. Because it’s a subject he hates (hence the fact he chickened out and waited to mention it until now).

At least Moana already knows.

They’d had a very awkward conversation a few years back when her people had first ventured onto the water after so long stuck on their island, back when they’d first encountered another tribe. She’d asked him whether they were likely to discover “any other mini demigods running around”. As in, other than Maui’s little tattooed doppelganger.

_As in_ , Moana had wanted to know if Maui had any offspring anywhere. Children. Descendants.

_Family_.

And the answer is no.

The answer has always been no. Whatever Maui’s feelings on the matter might be. Being a demigod apparently makes him incompatible with humans (and monsters and other demigods) in a certain specific sense.

But still –

He’s got the feeling he’s going to produce a lot of spunk and it’s more than understandable if Moana doesn’t want to deal with that. Though if he does pull out, she’s still going to be _dealing with it,_ just in a different way.

“It’s – It’s okay,” Moana seems to be attempting to wrap her arms around him even though she can’t reach, hugging him against her (yeah, she _knows_ how painful a topic that is, not that Maui wants to think about it anymore). She says, “I _want_ you to – in me. I want you to come in me.”

Just hearing her _say_ it –

“W–want you so m– _oh_ _gods_ – want you to – to come too,” Maui confesses breathlessly into her hair (an entirely true confession in the frantic attempt to cover the unintentional, far more dangerous one he _very_ nearly says). He’s damned glad Moana can’t see his expression: how utterly unravelled he is.

If speaking wasn’t so difficult right now, she could probably get him to admit to anything.

“You can use your – your fingers and mouth again afterwards, like – like you promised,” Moana tells him.

And then she _squeezes_ her sex around his cock and doesn’t let up, and Maui’s vision fizzles out.

She adds “ _please_ ” and that’s it –

That’s it, that’s it, that’s it, _that’s it_ –

Orgasm hits Maui fast and hard, slamming into him with far more force than expected, so brilliant and blinding it turns everything inside out and upside down, racing through him wildly, filling him until it spills over, shaking him to the core. He’s unaware of anything right then except the peripheral knowledge that he might just be about to make a lot of noise.

Unable to prevent it, at the last possible moment before the shout bursts out of him, Maui claps his hand desperately over his mouth. He bites down hard, turning his head away from Moana to shield her as much as he can.

The relief that sweeps over him as the orgasm recedes is indescribable.

But still, as reality comes creeping back, Maui finds his ears are faintly ringing and his throat stings from the volume of his roar. And considering the lateness of the hour and the silence of the sleeping village beyond this little hut, that’s –

Oops.

And if _his_ ears are ringing –

Wiping his face (he’s started sweating at some point, which is _rare_ ) and dragging in a deep breath, Maui sends a concerned glance down at Moana. He finds her squinting up at him, an odd look on her face as if she’s simultaneously wincing and struggling not to laugh.

“I _knew_ you’d be loud,” she announces smugly even as she unplugs her fingers from her ears. Then her face crumples, “Ow. No really, _ow_ …”

Damn it, he’s hurt her –

Moana must see the look of absolute guilt and panic that floods Maui’s expression, because she hastens to reassure him, “Not my ears or my – I mean my _legs_. Ah, major cramp, get off, get off!”

Maui swiftly obeys, pulling out gently, sitting up with a grunt and shifting out of the way to let her stretch. Then he grabs Moana’s legs and digs his fingers in, making her hiss. She nearly smacks him in the face for his efforts, but he finds the correct muscles to press against quickly, watching her reactions closely to gauge the pressure, and then she’s too busy making appreciative noises to do anything else.

Those noises don’t remind Maui in the slightest of her reaction to _earlier activities_.

“Better?” He releases her legs in order to rub her back when she sits up as well, seeing as she’s the one who has spent the most time on the floor.

“ _Much_. I’m demanding your services in the future every time I need a massage,” Moana vows. She leans into Maui’s touch, her head falling forwards, hair tumbling over her face, “It can be your official role as my – my demigod.”

_Her_ demigod, huh?

“It can, can it?” Maui’s fairly glad she can’t see the irrepressible smile that tugs at his mouth (and he doesn’t wonder whatsoever about that fractional pause; about whether she had been going to say something else. Although it could have been 'best friend'. He's pathetically grateful she doesn't say that right now).

There’s something he needs to confirm, “Sure you’re otherwise okay? I didn’t – get a bit rough at the end?”

“Hmm… do you know I’m _not sure_ ,” Moana answers with decided emphasis, tipping her head to side-eye Maui through her hair. They’re sitting close enough for her to nudge him with her knee. “You weren’t rough, but I still think you should check I’m okay, just in case. You know, like you said you would. With your fingers and mouth.” As if he's forgotten.

“Oh, you think that might help, do you?” Undeniably relieved, Maui runs his fingers lightly down the length of Moana’s spine – she shivers – and shakes out his hands, sparing a glance at the deep tooth marks gouged into one (even _he_ can’t make himself bleed).

“I do,” Moana straightens, tossing her hair out of her face (Maui has to lean back to avoid getting it in his). She awards him her best ‘Chief Waialiki’ expression.

“Ugh. _Fine_ ,” He responds to that as is appropriate with his most reluctant groan – as if he has any intention of leaving her wanting. Before he can do anything about it though, Moana blinks.

“Oh, my ears just stopped ringing,” she pokes at one as if to double check, “I can hear properly again. You know, I think my mum and dad already suspected before tonight, but you do realise now that everyone will. There’s no way you didn’t wake them all up. At least you sounded way too enthusiastic for them to worry.” She sniggers, “Or dare investigate.”

Maui freezes. Oh gods, her parents –

“Um,” He can’t get anything else out, but ‘um’ seems an adequate reaction to _that_ news.

“If you could see your face...” Moana laughs. Then she climbs onto his lap. Now a bit stunned for multiple reasons, Maui lets her. She wriggles against him, “All right, enough of a break. Get back to work.”

Well, if she doesn’t seem to mind that _he_ was loud…

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so,” Leaning forwards to bury an evil grin in Moana’s breasts, Maui sets out to discover just how noisy he can get her to be.

 

 

_A/N:_

_End of part one._

*Potential trigger: infertility


	8. Chapter 8

Part Two

 

While Maui would greatly like to claim he wakes with Moana in his arms, instead he opens his eyes to a chicken. He’s sprawled flat on his back with it perched on top of him, its face thrust right up against his. Staring at him unblinkingly across absolutely zero distance.

Maui, Demigod of the Wind and Sea, Hero to All, definitely doesn’t do anything as undignified as scream (but it’s a close call).

“Hey drumstick,” he manages a little weakly.

The chicken clucks at him, nonplussed. It straightens up, takes a few steps and dives headfirst off his chest. Righting itself, it then proceeds to totter over to the exit, eventually succeeding in leaving the little hut after several collisions with the wall.

“Bye then,” Having turned his head automatically to follow the bird’s progress, Maui raises a hand to rub sleep out of his eyes (he’d got into the habit of lengthy naps on the island, lasting days, months and eventually even _years_ ). He discovers Moana curled up asleep nearby in a patch of sunlight coming in from outside. She’s dressed in fresh clothes with the remains of a lei po’o tangled in her hair, flowers strewn around her on the floor.

No prizes for guessing who – or rather what – is to blame for that.

Moana’s making quiet noises in her sleep, an arm folded under her head, her cheek pillowed on her wrist, body curled around a small pile of things topped with a coconut. She looks warm and slightly uncomfortable and possibly a tiny bit adorable, not that Maui’s going to admit to thinking the last.

At this point, the memory of what _exactly_ they did last night comes rushing back to him.

It’s probably a good thing Moana’s asleep right now and can’t see his face – or any other part of him. Gritting his teeth, Maui snakes his hand down to give his dick an admonishing squeeze. Damn it, he’s really had enough of doing _that_ for a long time.

The urge to grab his hook and make a dignified exit is compelling (this is not in the least bit similar to running away, thank you very much). Equally compelling however is the contradictory desire to coax Moana awake, gather her up into his arms and –

And –

Yeah, he’d better let her sleep. She’s bound to be worn out after – _After_. Maui smirks.

“Mwuh?” As if just to be contradictory Moana chooses now to wake, jolting into a semi-upright position and sending a wild-eyed yet unseeing look around the hut. “I’m awake!”

She clearly isn’t.

A huge yawn interrupts whatever she goes to say next. Moana hastily covers her mouth before grimacing, wiping a bit of drool from her chin. Then she blinks, seeming to realise where she actually is, and sighs in relief.

“Ugh, I thought I was still in that council meeting for a moment,” she darts a rueful smile at Maui, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the middle of the day. Your snoring was just so nostalgic.”

Yeah, she might have discovered some years ago that while Maui doesn’t sleep while wayfinding, he’s otherwise a pro at it.

“The Great Maui doesn’t snore,” Maui has to virtuously protest (he does and he knows it).

“The ‘Great Maui’ _might_ not snore if he stopped sleeping on his back,” Moana rolls her eyes, her lips twitching. She gives him a sideways look, “He also shouldn’t refer to himself in third person.”

“The Great Maui says ‘nope’.” Because indeed nope: Maui’s going to carry on doing that for as long as it continues to wind Moana up (while he _might_ attempt to sleep on his side). He can’t find any further words to tease her with even so, because –

Because he totally isn’t lying there gazing at her, drinking in the movements of her body as she stretches, the play of sunlight over her face and limbs.

Yup, Maui totally isn’t watching Moana very closely _at all_. Just as he _doesn’t_ think she looks beautiful right then (something he’s never consciously allowed himself to think about her before), a red mark on her cheek from sleeping on her wrist, scattered flowers caught in her hair. Similarly, he _doesn’t_ feel a pang at the thought that last night was just a one-off, just ‘showing’ Moana about sex, and that it’s entirely likely he will never get to touch her again except in friendship, and –

And _never mind_.

Whatever Moana wants, that’s the important thing. Exhaling gustily, Maui swipes both hands hard over his face as if by doing so he can simply push any inappropriate thoughts away.

“Hey,” he finds a grin for Moana when she finishes straightening her clothes. She glances over at him, no doubt having noticed his attention (and he’s _not_ going to wonder what she makes of it).

Who’s to say if his grin is crooked or not; it’s still genuine.

“Hey,” Moana scoops up the coconut, passing it to him along with a couple of other pieces of fruit, “I brought you breakfast.”

“Appreciate it,” Maui’s stomach makes a grateful noise as he hoists himself up to accept. He cracks open the coconut, offering it to her first, “Want some?”

“Thanks, but I’m okay. I ate before the meeting,” Moana digs her fingers into her hair, starting to comb it through, “I asked my parents to save us some lunch if we’re not in time for it. It must be afternoon by now or near enough.”

His mouth full, Maui nods his thanks, making swift work of the food. He’ll have to return the favour; get her dinner or something (pretending reluctance at it). Discovering the flowers caught in her hair, Moana plucks them free, gathering them into a neat pile on the floor.

“Hei Hei was trying to eat my hair again, wasn’t he,” she says, somewhere between resigned and amused, “The lei po’o just got in his way.”

“Looks like it,” Maui agrees as Moana grimaces, encountering a stubborn tangle at the nape of her neck. He winces on her behalf as she yanks at it in frustration when it refuses to unravel, “Want me to get that for you?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Moana gives up after another tug. She shoots him a smile, “I’ve got something for you first though, if you want it.”

“What is it?” Maui’s instantly intrigued. He has the distinct impression she means a _gift_. Of course he wants it!

“Here,” Moana picks something up off the floor beside her; the last item she’d slept curled around. She tosses it over to him before he can reach out to take it.

It’s material – tapa cloth. Maui catches it before it gets him in the face, depositing it on his lap so he can see it (completely incidentally covering a _certain part_ that remains far too interested in Moana despite his best intentions).

“This is –” A lavalava. The end of the sentence clogs in Maui’s throat. He never did get around to getting any leaves to make himself a new one last night, although they had ducked out into the rain very late on to get cleaned up.

“You don’t have to accept it,” Moana sounds nonchalant but she glances down at her fingers, fiddling with her skirt. Maui wrenches his gaze away from the lavalava to raise an eyebrow at her and she falls still, straightening up to meet his gaze.

“I know it’s kind of clumsy,” The expression she pulls next is terrible, “And I’m aware it’s probably not – not befitting of your _status_ as –”

“You made it,” Maui goes for what’s important, certain given Moana’s reaction his guess is correct (and anyway his ‘status’ is all over his skin). He spreads the lavalava out over his knees to get a better look at it. He wouldn’t say it’s clumsy, just a tad uneven. The colour choice is perhaps a touch unusual and the pattern admittedly unconventional, the blobby shapes on it –

Wait. Wait a moment.

Maui snorts in amusement before he can stop himself. He points, “Are these things supposed to be _boats_?” And that sort of wavy squiggle the sea?

“Hey!” Moana leans over to thump him indignantly, though she looks equally close to laughter, “I made it when I was, like, eight, okay? _Literally_ eight. My gramma and some of my aunties helped me.” Wrinkling her nose, she admits, “I had thought of giving it to my dad back then, but –” She shrugs.

Yeah, Maui can see why she decided against that.

“Sure you don’t want to give it to him now?” he feels compelled to check. It must have taken her a lot of work to make it, at that age. And if her grandmother helped her and Moana has kept it all this time, it must be precious to her.

Maui is reluctantly self-aware enough to know he probably isn’t the best choice for it in that case, the accidental destruction of his previous lavalava being a good example why. He’s also aware he _wants_ to keep it, more than he’d ever let on (it’s not like mortals – or anyone else – tend to give him presents. Offerings and rewards in the past for his glorious deeds, sure, but his hook might just be the only real gift he’s ever been given. And as it’s _Moana_ giving him this – Nope, not thinking about it).

“I know what I want,” Moana says.

“Never questioned _that_.” Yeah, this doesn’t remind Maui of last night, of Moana telling him she knows her own mind.

She pokes his arm, “I want to give it to _you_.” Her teasing expression is both fond and amused, “Don’t you think you’ll look good in it? Perhaps you’re worried the patterns will detract from your tattoos?”

Hmm, she’s kind of got a point about that.

But, “Hey, I look good in _anything,_ ” Maui objects, because really. He does.

“And in nothing,” Moana cheerfully agrees.

“Uh,” Heat leaps into Maui’s neck and ears at the unexpected observation as his dick twitches. Mischief glints in Moana’s eyes along with a hint of something else – something he hesitates to name.

“In fact,” she proclaims in her ‘Chief Waialiki’ voice, “I can tell you that in my informed opinion, demigod, you look at your best completely naked.”

“ _What_ – I mean – of course I do!” Maui splutters. Because of course he does! Part of him (and it’s fairly obvious which part) is tempted to whip the lavalava off his lap and strike a pose to show off just how ‘at his best’ he looks, but –

But does she mean it?

Nah, surely not. Surely she’s just teasing.

“I _do_ think the lavalava could provide some useful protection from draughts and breezes though,” Moana grins. Her gaze flicks up to the top of his head, her face going suspiciously blank, “Do you want to try it on now or help me with that tangle? Or shall I help you with _yours_?”

 _Oh_ _crap_. Maui’s hands fly up to his curls in panic. 

“The Great Maui’s hair doesn’t _tangle_ ,” he proclaims loftily, even as he’s frantically feeling for the damage. Yup, she’s right: it’s more than a little disordered up there.

“The look on your face!” Moana descends into helpless giggles. She nudges him, “That’s some interesting sex hair you’ve got going on.”

“You waited until now to tell me?” Maui gives her an appalled look, but he can’t say he’s surprised. He’d told Moana (told himself) he wanted things to remain normal between them, after all, and her teasing him mercilessly is exactly that.

“Yup,” Moana agrees ( _his_ word). She shifts onto her knees, gesturing for him to drop his hands, “Come on, let me help. It _is_ my fault your hairstyle is so unique this morning.”

“Don’t need reminding about that,” Maui grumbles without much heat. Remembering how she buried her hands in his curls and pulled at them is a memory he’d strongly prefer to linger over rather than try hard (hah) to forget –

“Right, you first,” he makes his voice as light as he can, lowering his hands from his head and indicating for Moana to turn around, “Chief of More-than-Motunui shouldn’t go around sporting tangles.”

“I don’t think a lack of tangles is going to stop my cousins speculating about what I’m doing in here with you right now,” Moana both smiles and shrugs a bit, tucking her feet under herself as she turns to face away from him.

“Mm?” Maui has to bite down firmly on the temptation to make several suggestions in response to _that_ comment.

“Mm-hm,” Moana confirms, “When I got up this morning, I found my mum outside warding several of them off. They were trying to peep in here for details.”

“Kind of your mum,” Maui replies just a touch awkwardly, “Can’t imagine you were very pleased with your cousins doing that.”

“I certainly had a few _words_ for them,” Moana slants him a sly look over her shoulder, half turning, “I got the impression they’d been hoping to catch a glimpse of Little Maui.”

Maui’s certain she isn’t referring to his miniature animated doppelganger.

“ _Little_?” he repeats, aghast, “Distinctly recall you saying last night it was _huge_.”

“’Incredibly, enormously’?” Moana supplies. She snickers, “I’m not likely to forget. Anyway, I thanked my mum on your behalf for defending your modesty.”

“You did, huh?” Maui can only snort – like he has any of _that_. Still he is grateful to Sina, more for her daughter’s sake than his: he can imagine Moana had to deal with no small amount of gossip this morning. He should have been there with her when she left the little hut, not sprawled asleep on his back.

“She might not have been entirely convinced when I told her how much you'd blush at the thought of my cousins peeking at you,” Moana says cheekily. She strikes a sitting-down version of her ‘Chief’ pose, “Still, fear not; they've been suitably chastised.”

“Heh,” This makes Maui think of a certain cousin he needs to ‘suitably chastise’ himself, which in turn makes him wonder –

“Oh, hey,” This is important. He should have asked earlier. “You okay this morning? I mean, um. No aches or pains? Your – Your, er.”

Apparently his usual smoothness is once again not quite up to par. No idea why.

“My ‘er’ is all right, thanks,” Moana grins, “Interestingly though, I did notice earlier that it’s still rather –”

“ _What_?” Maui asks before he can prevent himself (and exactly _how_ did she notice?), immediately and guiltily intrigued. He has to clamp down hard – _argh_ – on his imagination, sparing a grateful thought for the lavalava.

Defending his modesty indeed.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t say,” Moana’s tone is one of utter innocence, “I would offer to let you check it’s okay just in case, but –”

Maui chokes.

“Your _face!_ ” She swivels back towards him fully to prod gleefully at his cheeks.

“Oi,” Laughing despite himself, Maui bats her away, as it’s that or pull her in against him and he’s conscious that Moana’s teasing does _not_ equal an invitation. Formal or otherwise.

“Okay, come on,” he determinedly changes the subject, “Hair.”

Moana gives him an indecipherable look, almost challenging. Just when Maui thinks she’s not going to let it go, she relents, scooting back away from him.

“All right. Thanks.” She reaches up to sweep most of her hair out of the way over one shoulder, “Can you see the tangle?”

Suddenly somewhat distracted for absolutely no reason whatsoever, Maui nevertheless spots it easily given the tangle’s size and intricacy. “Yup, I see it.”

They’re not touching each other like this, but he still finds himself sharply aware of Moana’s proximity. Aware that his heartbeat picks up (stupid heart), Maui gazes at the curve of her shoulders, the nape of her neck, the line of her back. She’s wearing a different top today, one that looks not too fiddly to unfasten, and –

And he wants to touch her. So very much.

“Oh,” Moana goes quiet and still as Maui runs two fingertips slowly down the back of her neck, only just making contact. He watches himself do it, feeling the softness of Moana’s skin and her warmth, following the length of her spine to her top. He lingers there for a moment, for just as long as he dares, before lifting both hands up to her hair.

“Maui?” Moana asks, but he can’t answer. Can only pretend he didn’t do anything.

Can only pretend he isn’t feeling something much like _longing_.

“I haven’t thanked you yet for last night, have I?” Moana says, still quiet. Concentrating determinedly on easing the long dark strands free from their tangle, Maui makes a noncommittal noise. Striving for his usual cool.

“I do thank you,” Moana insists, “There isn’t anyone else I would have trusted nearly as much to show me about sex and you did so _awesomely_.”

Maui would very much like to puff up and preen at this, but –

“Weren’t bad yourself,” he says a little gruffly (this is understatement at its finest) and Moana snorts.

“I’m pretty sure you mean I was amazing,” she informs him and – well. There’s the possibility she might be right about that. But then she falters, her shoulders slumping a bit, and shoots a questioning look back at him. Maui quickly shifts his fingers accordingly so not to pull at her hair.

“Or at least I wasn’t too bad for a beginner?” Moana asks.

Maui gives her a flatly disbelieving look before he can prevent himself. Some of the things she did, that she came up with – No way should she be doubting herself.

Right then. He owes her the truth.

So, “You _were_ amazing,” he tells her, “And you know it.”

“I was?” Moana revives, sitting up straight again. She grins, “I was.” Stretching her legs out in front of her, she wiggles her toes. “I’m glad I didn’t give up on sex. Very glad.”

“Yup,” Maui has to grin as well, because he’s glad for her too – whether it’s something _he’s_ involved in or not. And because he’s aware he _does_ have to ask and not just go ahead and do it (unless he wants to risk Moana’s justified wrath), he says, “Hey. About that cousin of yours. You want me to squash them a bit?”

More like a lot.

“In all honesty, yes sort of, but don’t,” Moana laughs, shaking her head, “I’m planning on having a _word_ myself. You were right yesterday when you said that my cousin and I should have talked after things went wrong. Actually I thought –” she hesitates, “I thought that maybe you were going to ask if I’m planning to show them what I’ve learned.”

“You thought _–_ ” It’s lucky Maui’s hands aren’t on the floor at this particular moment or else he might have additional carpentry to do. But he’s not jealous at the prospect, damn it, damn him, he’s _not_. Moana is free to have sex with whoever she wants – and should indeed do so, if said 'whoever' feels similarly inclined (and who _wouldn’t_?). It’s up to her if she’s changed her mind about a repeat performance with that cousin.

“Guess there’s lots you can teach them if you are planning that,” He still has to hide a grimace, “Hope they’re a fast learner.”

A very fast, very successful and _very_ grateful learner.

“Yes, no thanks,” Moana folds her arms, “I was also going to say that if you _had a_ sked me that, my answer would have been no. No thanks; no way. I’m not interested in ever having sex again,” she lets the sentence hang for a fraction of a second, “ _With them_. That’s not going to change.”

“Heh, kind of relieved to hear it” (more like _a lot_ ). Maui returns to his work on the remains of the tangle as it’s that or ask if Moana is interested in ever having sex again _with him_. He says as casually and neutrally as possible, “You know you deserve better than that ‘rubbish failed sex’, don’t you.”

He doesn’t mean it as an offer – whatever he feels about the matter isn’t a concern right now. It’s just a statement of fact.

“I –” Moana lifts a hand to the back of her head as the final strands slip free from their snag. She turns to face Maui again as he lowers his hands from her hair, sending a searching look up at him. “I do know that. But thanks for saying it.”

And, wow, that’s a lot of sincerity she’s directing at him right there. Maui has to wave a hand, wave it off, make a dismissive noise, “Yeah, yeah.”

Moana’s expression changes, crooking into a smirk, and she indicates her untangled hair.

“Oh, and also _thanks for that_ ,” she says with some emphasis and that’s exactly what she said last night when Maui – when she told him –

The sole thought occupying Maui’s head right then is ‘multiple orgasms’.

That and the yearning to kiss her.

“You’re w–” Ah no, he can’t say that. That phrase is now forever going to remind him of going down on her. And however a fantastic association _that_ is, Maui really shouldn’t be thinking about it right now. Not unless he wants to risk his dick getting a whole lot more interested than it already is.

 _Anyway_.

So, “No problem,” he says instead.

“Let me sort your hair out for you,” Moana offers, her smirk lingering at the corner of her lips. She very noticeably doesn’t move around behind him, but remains facing him, raising herself up on her knees and lifting her hands to his curls.

Maui can’t move, can’t speak, looking at Moana’s face while she looks at his hair, holding his hands loose on top of the lavalava in order not to reach for her. Moana’s arms are around him in an echo of an embrace. Tension tightens in Maui’s chest as she skilfully rearranges his curls. The feeling of her strong, slender fingers moving through them doesn’t seem intended to be sensual, but he’s entirely unused to it all the same, to this simple act. It feels –

It feels caring. And he _knows_ Moana cares for him, just (there’s no point in denying it) as he does for her. But –

“Moana?” Maui questions huskily when she leans over to one side, scooping something up off the floor, her other hand braced on his head for balance and to keep him in place.

“Mm-hm?” Moana replies, returning to her task. It feels very much like she weaves something deftly in amongst his curls.

“You –” Maui narrows his eyes suspiciously, presses his mouth flat to stop a grin, “You putting flowers in my hair?” 

Moana’s lips definitely quirk.

“There’s no point in wasting them,” she says brightly, leaning over again to scoop up more, “I promise I won’t use any of the slimy ones Hei Hei regurgitated.”

“Yeah, don’t,” Maui pulls a face at the thought of those, although he’s struck by an undeniable rush of emotion much like – ugh, much like _hope._ Because Moana’s tribespeople (her _parents_ ) are highly likely to suspect that the flowers originate from her lei po'o, and _he_ knows it and _Moana_ knows it, and if even wearing the lavalava she made will seem very much like he's agreeing that he’s –

Well. Like she said last night. That he’s _her_ demigod.

That he’s hers.

“There, finished,” Moana declares, “Looking gorgeous.”

Does she – _can_ she mean it? Maui finds he can no longer be quite so sure she’s only teasing.

“ _Course_ I am,” he smirks and takes in a breath, “And, er. You know. Thanks.”

He means it.

“Not just for the hairstyle,” Damn it, he’s useless with emotions. And with gratitude. And possibly not so great at expressing either of them. “For the clothes. And, um.” Maui makes himself say it, “For, ah – for last night. For trusting me.”

He definitely can’t express just how much that last part means. Along with the thought that Moana _didn’t_ find him overwhelming. That it – that _he_ – wasn’t too much.

That she said it was awesome.

“Thank you,” Maui finally says. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Smiling, Moana says simply, “Thank you too.”

She’s looking at him again: not at his hair this time, but at his eyes and his face, just as he’s looking at her. Her fingers are still in his curls. Maui reaches out without permission from his brain, hand curving round her shoulder.

“Moana, I –” He genuinely can’t say which of them moves first: they simultaneously pull each other in. Resting his forehead against Moana’s, Maui lets his eyes close. Breathing her in.

Neither of them seems willing to move away when the hongi ends.

Moana’s fingers slide out of Maui’s curls when she eventually draws back, not far. One of her hands settles on his shoulder, mirroring how he’s touching her, while her other hand curls around his neck under his ear. Her thumb brushes the corner of his jaw. A shiver rises in Maui at how seriously she’s still looking at him. Moana’s not making her ‘sincere’ face, not exactly. Rather it feels like she’s looking _into_ him, seeing him.

Seeing _him_.

It's honestly kind of terrifying, but -

“Hey,” Moana murmurs. Letting him see her in return.

“Hey,” Maui finds his voice, just as hushed. Lifts his free hand to graze her cheek.

Moana’s always been the bravest between them, even now.

“Maui, will you scream and grab your hook and fly off forever if I kiss you?” she asks, "Because you didn’t seem that keen on it last night or perhaps you were just indulging me, but I – I maybe thought it was one of the best things ever.” She chews briefly on her lip, “I trust that I might – that I _will_ improve with practice, although that’s not the reason I’m asking now; I don’t mean it like that, I don’t mean just ‘showing’ me –”

“You thought _what_?” Maui doesn’t mean to interrupt in the slightest, but she thinks he wasn’t ‘that keen’ on it?!

“I just want to kiss you,” Moana says.

Maui’s heart feels like it stops. Everything feels like it stops. He very nearly just sits there and stares at her in stunned disbelief.

Instead, he kisses her.

Moana meets him immediately, pushing herself up further on her knees as he bows his head, her mouth pressing firm and certain and _eager_ against his. A low noise thrums deep in Maui’s chest, need and want and affection and heady amazement all mixed up together inside him, his cock giving a joyous victory leap in his lap. Maui pays it no heed, entirely focused on Moana, swallowing a heartfelt groan. He can’t think, can’t worry about what _Moana_ might think, can’t do anything but kiss her and kiss her, his pulse thundering in his throat. His hand skims up from Moana’s shoulder, caressing the graceful arch of her neck, the fingers of his other hand brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her temple. He then frames her face in both of his palms like she’s something precious and –

She is. Oh, how she is.

“Mm,” Moana hums between kisses, sounding breathless herself, distinctly pleased, “You know, kissing you isn’t – isn’t octopus-like. Not at all.”

“Uh-huh,” Maui agrees just a tiny bit smugly – okay, maybe a lot. He’s not up to saying more even so, too busy kissing her (although a specific part of him may well be _up_ indeed. All the blood in his body feels like it’s rushed to his cock).

Moana pulls at him, trying to draw him even closer to her. She kisses Maui until he’s nearly dizzy with it, until he can barely remember to breathe. Close to lost in it for a moment, the taste and feeling of her mouth opening – incredibly, wonderfully – to his.

“Don’t stop,” Moana orders, a little rushed, a little flustered, kissing him between sentences, speaking against his mouth, “Maui, don’t stop. Not – not unless you want to. Unless _you_ think it’s octopus-like. Or awful.”

 _Awful_?

Maui virtuously doesn’t relay his dick’s request she put her hand on it to discover just how very far from 'awful' he thinks it is. He’s going to need to tug the lavalava off his lap shortly; he’s so hard he’s going to start leaking on it and he really doesn’t want to risk ruining the cloth, and that’s –

Moana kisses him again, but he can feel a slight tension in her that wasn’t there before: she’s waiting for his answer.

“Don’t know why the – the _hell_ you – you think I think – er, I think – um. What am I saying?” Damn it, speech and sentence construction aren’t Maui’s friends right now. He’d far rather just comply with her order and keep kissing her.

Moana laughs, “I don’t know. What are you saying?”

Maui has to laugh too. Gets his act together; makes a second attempt, “What the hell makes you think I might think kissing you is awful?” There, said it. And come to think of it, “Or that I wasn’t ‘keen’?”

“ _Well_ ,” Moana says in quite a different tone of voice. To Maui’s intense regret, she also stops kissing him, “For a start, you said ‘nah’ last night when I asked if you wanted me to kiss you. Even though your little tattoos were implying quite the opposite.”

“That’s –” Surely she should know better by now than to _listen_ to him.

Moana continues over him, “And then I begged you to kiss me and you _stopped_.”

“I didn’t _stop_ ,” Maui flounders. Because he _had_ stopped, but only because he’d been extremely enthusiastic about kissing her _elsewhere_. That and –

That and he’d convinced himself that Moana’s request had just been her impending orgasm talking. That she couldn’t possibly truly want him to kiss her.

Moana jabs him between the ribs, unerringly getting the spot that requires Maui to muffle a squeak.

“And then I told you that you kissed me and I _came._ And you did nothing!” Mirth flickering in her gaze belies her pouting frown, “Don’t you think that might have been just the tiniest bit of a hint?”

Okay, so when she puts it like that –

“Want me to kiss you again, in that case?” Maui offers as, really, it seems he’s got a fair amount to make up for. He can’t suppress a smirk at the thought, although for some reason it emerges as more of a grin.

“Oh, if you _have_ to,” Moana sighs.

“I do have to,” Maui reels her in to do just that, exceedingly pleased when she responds at once, laughing and then groaning into his mouth. He lets Moana nudge up against him and wriggle around to take control of the kiss, gasping a little – can’t help it – when she pushes his knees open to crawl between them. His dick strains towards her in welcome beneath the lavalava, very interested in this development.

But then Moana _pulls back again_. Maui and his cock both all but cry out in protest.

“Gods, do you know how difficult it’s been keeping my hands off you until now?” she blurts, “I had to sit through that council meeting this morning when all I wanted to do was – was to break into _song_ about how amazing last night was and how I want to do it again with you. All of it and more. You know, happily. Anytime.”

“Yeah?” Maui’s smirk is so broad it hurts. He damn well nearly bursts into song himself.

“Yes,” Moana says decisively, “Let me tell you, those lyrics would have been really inappropriate.”

Maui slings an arm around her, hooking her back in against him, “I got to hear it.” Takes a breath in. “Got to tell you too, I’m good with that plan. _More_ than good with it.”

He doesn’t even have the words to say just how good with it he is.

“You are?” Moana kisses him again before he can answer, kisses his mouth and his nose and in between his eyebrows, his cheeks (he’s fairly sure she’s aiming for his dimples), and Maui’s laughing again before he knows it, this time in profound relief.

“You think I’m going to say no to that?” he enquires just to provoke her, flailing a little for balance under the sheer enthusiasm of her kisses.

“No,” Moana’s laughing right along with him, “Don’t you dare!”

“Hey,” Maui coaxes her back just enough to see her: the smile tugging irrepressibly at her kiss-reddened lips, her dark eyes shining, the glow to her cheeks.

It’s a very good look for her. One of his favourites: right up there with the best.

“Hey,” Moana’s eyebrow quirks as she takes in his expression, “Is that a ‘chee-hoo’ face?”

“Might be,” Maui confirms. Because yeah. Yeah, it really is.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Please skip to the A/N at the end for a new potential trigger warning.

 

“So,” There’s an impish glimmer in Moana’s eyes. She’s kneeling between Maui’s legs, leaning in towards him, looking up at his face. “As we’ve established we both want to have more sex with each other…” She slides her hand down his chest and abdomen to curve over his hip.

“Uh-huh,” Maui helpfully provides, aware of his cock shifting under the lavalava in the attempt to attract her attention. Not much ‘modesty’ going on down there; there’s no hiding how much he’s tenting the material. Suffice to say, his erection feels pretty epic.

“ _Lots_ more sex with each other…” Moana clarifies, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“ _Uh_ - _huh,_ ” Maui can’t help but respond with a grin of his own. He’s very aware of her thumb brushing the hem of the lavalava; the way she’s curving in towards him. But as much as he wants to drink in the sight of her body so close to his, he valiantly keeps his attention on her face (or at least mostly on it).

Because, regardless of all the apparent evidence, until Maui’s had actual spoken confirmation he’s not about to presume that ‘happily, anytime’ means ‘right now’.

Even if that look in Moana’s eyes coupled with her hand on his hip are making both him and his dick feel damn presumptuous.

“Are you waiting for a formal invitation?” One of Moana’s eyebrows rises as her grin deepens in response to his restraint. And that strongly implies the answer he’s waiting for, but –

“Do you know _I’m not sure_ ,” Maui shrugs just to tease her. Still he really does want to ascertain she’s okay with them proving her cousins’ speculation correct (and quite possibly everyone in her village knowing or at least suspecting what their chief is up to), so he glances at the exit to the little hut. “Already had a visit from the chicken. That pig of yours likely to come check up on us next? Seem to recall you saying something about always being interrupted…”

Maui can remember that little story very well, in fact. He’s also greatly looking forward to retelling it, though he might have to be a teensy bit careful about picking his audience. Else Moana will undoubtedly smite him indeed.

“Pua knows I’m an adult and have been for some time, and respects the decisions I make,” Moana says, looking mildly amused (yeah, it’s not just the pig they’re talking about, is it). She adds pointedly, “As do my parents. As for the council –”

“Uh, yeah,” Maui can’t say he hasn’t been wondering. Not that it’s any of their business, but he knows they like to chip in on everything Moana does and put a fair amount of pressure on her, whether she pays attention to them or not.

And he’s absolutely certain they’ll have an opinion about what she does with _him_.

“Well, as I _think_ you’re aware at least by now, I don’t have to remain chaste,” The face Moana pulls at that word is awful, “I let the council know exactly what I think of that charming tradition back before my inauguration. It’s something Gramma always supported me on and my parents do too. Because really. It doesn’t matter whether I want to have sex or not, I’m not about to let anyone tell me I’m not allowed. I’m the chief. My family line continues through _me_. If it does.”

Yeah, it’s a safe bet the council will also have an opinion about _that_.

“And if it doesn’t,” There’s a hint of tension or something similar in Moana’s limbs, but she shrugs lightly enough, “I’ve plenty of first cousins to step in. A couple of them might even be good at it.”

“It’s your body,” Maui agrees, “Should be your choice" (and it should be neither here nor there that it's not a choice _he's_ ever had. But –).

“Exactly,” Moana’s smile is small but resolute, “I know my duty to my people. But I also know my duty to myself.”

“Glad to hear it,” Maui really is. Then he gives in and smirks, “And hey, nice speech.”

“Hey, got to be prepared to give speeches when you’re Chief,” Moana elbows him before she pouts, “Although for all that, you did have a point. As this is my life, there will no doubt be some supposedly vital reason for someone to interrupt us just as things get _interesting_.”

Maui has to laugh at the sheer ire in her growl come the end of that sentence – while his imagination enthusiastically supplies him with no few definitions of ‘interesting’.

“Happy to chase off anyone who tries but – yeah,” he sends a smug yet sheepish glance down at his lap. Bursting out of this hut with a raging hard-on would make quite the impression (the break for Moana’s little speech having done nothing to put it off). He glances over at his hook. Wouldn’t admit this to anyone else, but – “Don’t know if I’ve got the, uh, concentration to shapeshift right now.”

“It would definitely give my cousins something to gossip about if you _didn’t_ shapeshift,” Moana says sunnily. Her hand slides down from his hip as if in illustration of her meaning, her forefinger locating but not quite touching the damp patch (damn it) on the lavalava.

“But don’t worry,” she pledges, her ‘sincere’ face combining with her ‘determined’ one, “I promise you, anyone who dares interrupt us will experience _my_ wrath.” She moistens her lips, “May I touch you?”

Maui very nearly says _always_. He amends it to, “Course you can.”

“ _Good_ ,” Moana dives right in where it’s deepest (as it were), of course. She rubs a little circle over the head of his cock.

“Ah gods –” Maui fails to suppress a whole body shudder. No way she doesn’t notice, as close to him as she is. “Moana, that’s…”

“I didn’t ask last night before I stuck my hand under your leaves,” Moana continues when he fails to find a sufficient adjective, a serious note to her voice beneath the teasing. Her finger moves gently against him through the tapa cloth – similar to how she had first touched him yesterday, with that one crucial difference. “That was rude of me. May I undress you?”

“Sure,” The lavalava’s only draped across his lap, “Not much to undress.”

“In terms of actual fabric it’s the most I’ve ever seen you wear,” is Moana’s cheeky retort. She gives him a considering glance through her eyelashes, “I quite like the idea of unwrapping you, if you put it on properly. That is, another time.”

“ _Sure,_ ” Now _that’s_ a reason to wear clothes. And thinking of unwrapping… Maui eyeballs Moana’s own outfit, “Hey, do I get to undress you too?”

Like now, perhaps?

“Maybe,” Moana removes her hand from his dick (it would howl in protest if it could). She reaches up to cup his face, forefinger caressing his cheek before coming to rest on his lips, “ _Yes_. In a bit.”

Maui can smell himself on her skin. It probably shouldn’t be anything like as arousing as it is.

“’In a bit’?” he’s obliged to groan in at least _mostly_ pretend complaint.

“Yup,” Moana says brightly, her eyes flickering down to his mouth. Instead of kissing him as he half expects, she presses more firmly with her finger. Maui obediently parts his lips, tempted to nibble. Draw it in and suck on it. Lick.

“I like this,” Moana says.

Given the direction of his thoughts, it takes Maui a moment to realise what ‘this’ is, aided by the nudge of her finger (he’s fairly sure it’s the exact same amount of pressure that she used against the head of his cock).

“My, er –” Really? The gap between his teeth? He has to snort internally: that and his dimples, out of all the things about him she could pick.

But –

But.

(They are him, aren’t they. Not the Great Maui, Demigod. They’re just – They’re just _him)_.

“Think it’s cute too, do you?” The question emerges mildly garbled around her finger – and nope, he’s not fishing for compliments, not at all.

“Shush, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Moana chides. She flashes wickedness up at him, “And yes, I do. Do you want to know what else I like about you?”

Again with the _hell yes_. Given he’s just been shushed, Maui raises an extremely polite enquiring eyebrow. It makes Moana laugh.

“Okay, I’ll show you,” she gives the lavalava a swift pull with her free hand, sending the material cascading off his lap. His dick pops up proudly, overjoyed at being freed from its confines, very hopeful of a reward for its patience. Maui has to blink for a second. Because heh. She likes his _dick_?

To think Moana said yesterday she _didn’t_ want to inflate his head (although he’s doing his utmost to wait to have it confirmed).

Withdrawing her finger from his mouth, wisely setting the lavalava well out of arm’s reach, Moana shoots him a much amused look. Yeah, she knows what he’s thinking all right.

But “I like _this_ ,” she repeats with greater emphasis, placing that same finger on –

On his foreskin, moving it over the glans.

Oh.

For some reason Maui didn’t – well, yeah. He didn’t expect that.

“You, uh –” his throat bobs. Freed to speak, he can’t immediately find words.

“My older relatives and the council all tell me it’s long been tradition that men are – cut,” Moana's finger traces another circle over his foreskin much like an apology; she knows why he's intact. She says quietly, earnest, “However something in me wonders if tradition should exclude choice. And I really do like this. But should I not have said so?”

Something ancient and defensive deep inside Maui instinctively rallies against the gentleness in her tone. He shoves it back down.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waves off her concern, careful to make tone and gesture as casual as can be, “You know, just waiting to hear the rest of your list.” He glances down at where her finger has gone motionless on his dick, his grin a little crooked, “Feel free to continue.”

“Everything I like about you does add up to quite a long list,” Moana smiles, conceding to his relief. Knowing by now when to let a topic go, this time at least. The empathy in her expression makes way for her best ‘innocent’ face, “Oh, or did you mean continue _this_?” Her finger stirs.

“ _Both_ ,” Maui’s breath hitches as she relaxes and resumes moving (he might just relax a fair bit himself). There’s a damp trace of his saliva still on her finger. Combined with the precum that beads out of the slit, it makes Moana’s touch a smooth, slow, sensitive glide. Maui’s helpless not to watch what she’s doing; how she’s touching him. His skin prickles.

“Well, strangely enough I find I’m quite fond of this too,” A faint smirk lurks in the corners of Moana’s mouth as she runs her hand down the length of his shaft. Wrapping her fingers around it, she tucks it snug against her palm, as much of it as she can, and yeah _now_ she’s talking about his cock. And then she tugs, her fingers rippling upwards.

The noise Maui makes is particularly inarticulate.

“Is it bad of me to say I just want to play with it?” Moana ‘innocent’ look is settling well into place, “It was fun experimenting with it – with _you_ – yesterday.” She rubs the flat of her thumb over the sensitive vein, “I’ve the feeling there’s still more for me to explore.” Leaning in, she slides her hand down lower to cheerfully investigate his balls, “For example, I didn’t give these much attention, did I?”

“Moana –” Maui splutters. Spreads his legs wider to accommodate her nevertheless.

“Mm-hm?” Moana glances askance up at him. Seeing no disapprobation in his face, she continues, “Oh and I remember asking about putting my fingers in you. I think I’m right you seemed to quite like that idea.”

Yes, she might just be right about that.

“ _Moana_ –” Maui has to repeat with more urgency, dick twitching against her wrist. This is starting to feel distinctly familiar: the possibility she might just tease and _talk_ him into orgasm.

Because damn it if he isn’t abruptly, mortifyingly close to the edge. He hisses a careful breath in through his teeth at the realisation, seeking equilibrium, seeking calm. He hasn’t even really touched Moana yet. Similarly she hasn’t even touched _him_ that much.

This won’t do at all.

“Are you going to come?” Moana’s gaze dips to his cock, dark lashes hiding the mischief Maui is certain rises in her eyes. “Would you like to? You did wait for a long time yesterday while you made me come, what was it, three times? And then more after that.” She darts a sparkling glance up at him, “You’re really very good at that, you know. It could be one of your titles: Maui, Demigod of the Wind, Sea and Orgasms –”

What Maui does next is in sheer self-defence. If maybe also a smidgen of payback.

“Hey,” he interrupts first, just to warn her.

“Y-yes?” Moana blinks, distracted mid-sentence. Maui spares a heartbeat to give her his best smirk. Then he pounces.

“Mau–i!” Moana’s protest turns halfway into a yelp. Moving faster than he usually lets himself around mortals – around _Moana_ – Maui scoops her up and over onto her back. Gets her under him in no time at all, careful not to hurt her; tumbling them together down onto the floor.

That achieved, he gives Moana a moment to get a breath in (time to protest if she so chooses, in which case he’ll let her up).

“Hey, I was talking!” Her pretence at crossness is belied by the fact she’s trying not to laugh. Maui muffles her harrumph with his mouth.

“Mm –” Moana makes a sort of not really surprised sound. Maui listens to ensure there’s no objection in it, then kisses her until a groan replaces her laughter. Kisses her until Moana’s hands are in his curls and undoing all her earlier good work; kisses her until she’s wriggling around under him in the attempt to spur him into further action. Trying to somehow tug him closer even though there’s next to no space left between them. Only then does he let up.

“All right to carry on?” It takes a vast amount of willpower to wait for Moana’s answer and not let his dick rock in against her leg like it’s begging to – and that just makes Maui remember doing that yesterday and how fantastic her sex feels against his cock.

Superlatively fantastic, in truth.

But he can wait just that bit longer. Because she wants to play with him? Only fair he gets to do the same to her.

“Yes, it’s very all right,” Moana is panting beneath him, that lovely flush back again all over her face. Her pupils are dilated, a sheen of sweat starting to dampen the roots of her hair, her breasts brushing his chest as she inhales. “Even if you did interrupt me, which you really should know better than to do.”

Maui gives her a toothy, unrepentant grin, “Guess I should apologise for that, then.” He kisses her again.

There’s something wonderful about how wholeheartedly Moana responds. She gives as good as she gets – or at least she does at first, as this time he doesn’t let up. Maui kisses her with everything in him; kisses her until she’s mewling, her limbs going uncharacteristically pliant, her body unfurling hot and loose beneath his. And this –

Getting his little firebrand mortal sidekick, his (okay, maybe so much more than) best friend, his – his – _Moana_ – to melt beneath him, just by kissing her –

This is both indescribably amazing and _immensely_ gratifying.

“How am I doing?” Maui eventually pulls back to enquire. Puts on his own best ‘innocent’ face.

“If this is how you apologise, carry on,” Moana’s breathless all over again. She squints up at him suspiciously, “I _knew_ you were holding back yesterday.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Of course he was (in every way). Just ‘showing’ her was completely different to – to _this_.

“No ‘maybe’ about it,” Moana looks amused, “I take it you took what I said earlier as a challenge?”

“What?” Maui pretends to have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. The effect is somewhat spoiled due to his expression approaching the definition of ‘smug’. “Oh, you mean about when I kissed you? And you came?”

“Yes that,” she smirks, “Because if so I’ll admit you’re not off to a bad start.”

“Only ’not bad’, huh?” Maui shakes his head in mock dismay, “Well, in that case…”

The only thing for it is to kiss her again.

Moana rises into it at once, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep in place. Drawing a hand down her side as he kisses her, Maui stops at her skirt, his fingers curling over her hip in an echo of how she touched him earlier, “Going to let me check my progress?”

“I don’t know,” Moana reply is nonchalant, but she’s reacting to the touch, pressing herself into his hand. She reaches up to demand another kiss, then prods him between the ribs, “After all, you didn’t take me up on my offer to check earlier.”

“Remiss of me,” Maui says easily, “Let me make it up to you now?” Transferring his weight onto his knees to free up his other hand, he brings it down to her knee, smoothing his palm up the outside of her thigh.

“I suppose I’ll let you,” Moana purses her lips in apparent reluctance, but there’s humour and arousal and – and _approval_ in her gaze. The sight of it makes something lance bright in Maui’s chest.

She puts a hand to her clothes, “And I suppose you'd like me to take these off?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Maui says, as if he doesn’t have much of opinion either way (of course he very much does). “So long as it’s what you want.” Because it had taken her a long time to undress yesterday and he’s not about to hasten her into anything she’s not comfortable with.

“I do,” Moana says decisively. The look she gives him is a combination of demure and coquettish – and full of mischief, “Besides, I don’t want to make a mess of my skirt.” Which is –

Yeah, Maui would really like to investigate the implications of _that_. He has to repress several replies that leap instantly into his throat.

“Do you see what I mean?” Moana reaches down for his hand on her leg. Instead of undressing herself, she takes hold of his knuckles, encourages his palm higher under the skirt.

“Ah gods,” The words spill out of Maui as his fingers find wetness on the inside of her thighs. While he might not be able to ‘see’ it, he can certainly feel it. His dick is just as delighted by this discovery as he is. “You’re –”

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana drags in a shivery gasp, draws her lower lip in between her teeth, “Like I said, you’re not off to a bad start.”

“Not bad at all, I reckon,” Maui corrects. He twirls his forefinger in a slick little circle right up close to her sex, very much like how she’d touched his cock. It makes her leg spasm. “Can I?”

“I won’t be very happy if you don’t,” Moana confirms.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Permission thus granted, Maui shifts fabric out of the way as needed, gladly bringing his fingers up to where he wants them, stroking down along the centre of her mons. Just caressing her outer lips for a moment, feeling them start to part to make way for him, tracing the edges of the inner ones, finding them swollen and very soft.

“Mm, yes,” Moana’s back to wriggling against him, “Yes, not a bad start at all.” She’s noticeably wetter than she was yesterday when they started out. Much more responsive too, moving her hips as if she’s trying not to but can’t help herself, making quiet noises once more in the back of her throat – and he’s still not done that much yet.

Other than kiss her, that is. Maui beams.

“More?” he checks just in case.

“Gods yes,” Moana moves her hand off his in order to fiddle with the fastening of her skirt. It’s her fingers that have gone clumsy this time around. “Ugh,” she snorts in mild frustration, “I chose this outfit because it would be _easy_ to take off…”

“You did, huh?” This confession has Maui exceedingly pleased. To think she’d already decided she wanted more sex with him today before he’d even woken up; that she’d hoped for it, planned for it –

His free hand definitely _doesn't_ shake with the surge of his own arousal as he reaches out, “Here let me help.”

Between them they’ve soon undone the knot and then Moana’s shedding the skirt as quickly as she’s able to, lifting her hips to pull it out from under her. With a victory grunt, she kicks it somewhere in the direction of the lavalava.

It’s the least care Maui’s ever seen her take of her clothes. This might be something to do with the fact he hasn’t removed his other hand from her sex.

While he’s not actively moving his fingers, he _is_ deliberately keeping them in place and the process of undressing has Moana squirming against them. She’s back to grabbing at his wrist again with one hand by the time she’s fumbling to unfasten her top, her face screwing up with the effort to resist her body’s urging to grind against him. And hey, if she wants to, Maui has _no_ problem with her doing that. Although he’d rather like to wind her up even more first, see what that results in.

And he is supposed to be ‘checking’. He remembers how Moana had wanted him to look at her last night; how that had been the first thing she’d asked of him. The prospect of having another look gets Maui’s balls tightening, his cock clamouring for its own close up personal inspection. He squeezes his thighs together, gives it a firm mental hush.

“Right,” Moana announces, tossing her top to one side (why yes, Maui’s gaze does immediately drop to her breasts). She swipes her hair out of her face, no uncertainty whatsoever in her gaze, “Ready. How about you?”

“You need to ask?” Maui reaches out with his free hand to cup Moana’s jaw. Swallowing fondness for her, he bows his back, leaning over and into her, coaxing her into relaxing back down again onto the floor from where she’s half-risen. Takes care to ensure they’re not touching much of anywhere other than his fingers against her sex and his mouth against hers.

“You certainly _seem_ ready,” Moana grins as he kisses her. She sighs, “Yes, keep on kissing me.”

“Fine, if I _have_ to,” For all he huffs, Maui doesn’t succeed in sounding at all put upon. Taking advantage of Moana’s open mouth, he lets his tongue touch her teeth. Seeks out the corners of her smile and that place she keeps biting on her lip. Strokes his fingertips smoothly over the outer lips of her sex as he kisses her, letting them slip in between to tickle the inner lips, dabbling in her ever increasing wetness. Moana’s fingers remain around his wrist, squeezing exponentially tighter the closer he gets to her clit. Her breathing is getting shallower and shallower, her kisses losing focus as all her attention shifts _down below_ , her body making brief aborted movements as anticipation tightens her torso and limbs.

“Right then,” Maui chooses this point to break the kiss without warning. He stops moving his fingers, just rests his hand lightly on her mons, lifting himself up off her and sitting back a bit.

Perhaps he shouldn’t enjoy the way Moana’s face fills with thwarted desire quite as much as he does.

“Why did you –” she starts, releasing his wrist, on the edge of being put out. Maui guides her knees wider with his other hand.

“Mm?” he tips his head enquiringly as if he has no idea why she’s frustrated, running his palm down her left calf to her ankle, coaxing her to place her foot up near her body. She gives him a look but consents to being positioned, so he does the same with her right leg, withdrawing his hand from her sex and moving himself as necessary to give Moana space to open up. Asks her innocuously, “Thought you wanted me to check?”

“I – I do,” Moana says, vexation swiftly fading. She brightens, glancing up at him and then down at herself, "I really do." She tucks her heels as close as she can to her ass to give him better access.

Delighted, Maui grins.

“Let’s have a look at you then.” He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of her like this, spread out and ready and waiting for him. The shape of her, her lines and curves; the lovely places where her body fits together; the complementary angles of her limbs.

“Go ahead,” Moana prompts, evidently desiring his ‘check’ to be more specific. She’s giving him her ‘get on with it’ look, but then she pauses, “You _do_ want to?”

Maui gives himself a bit of a shake, “You think I _don’t_?”

“I think you do,” Moana’s scrutinising his face.

“You _know_ I do,” Maui hears his voice drop an octave.

Moving back in closer to her, he glides his hand up the length of her leg, palm soothing over her ankle and her crooked knee, continuing up, smearing the wetness painting her thigh. Moana murmurs and jolts when he separates the outer lips of her sex with finger and thumb. She’s wet enough her inner lips cling together rather than springing free to follow them. This makes Maui want to lap at them, part them with his tongue. He holds off on doing so for the time being, simply propping his weight on his elbow and lowering his head close to her sex, inhaling the scent of her greedily.

“Mm, Maui, that’s –” Moana’s breasts hitch entirely pleasantly when he licks his lips.

“Yeah?” He brushes a kiss against her inner thigh, knowing she expects it that bit higher, suppressing a chuckle when it makes her swear. “Hm, did you say something?” he lifts his head back up to courteously enquire in response.

“You know I did,” Moana half laughs and half growls. Settling one hand on his shoulder, nails pressing lightly into his skin, she reaches out with her other hand to poke his nose, a surprisingly fond gesture considering how he’s teasing her.

“Yes and it was rude,” Maui agrees approvingly. He pushes the hood of her clit gently upwards to expose it (what a glorious sight), making her moan. He double checks, “This still all right?”

“It would be even better if you touched it,” Moana grumbles, but she’s far from objecting. Raising her knees up to her chest, she loops her arms around her legs to open them up even further, her gaze hot and heavy on his. Her flush growing deeper, sweat beading in the hollow of her collarbone, between her breasts.

Maui can’t breathe for how much he wants her.

“Hmm, do you mean touch it like this?” He gives her what she wants to an extent –

Or, in other words, he sets out to get her _really_ worked up.

He massages Moana’s clit with slippery fingers until her thighs are shaking and her stomach’s taut and she’s gritting her teeth, hissing at his refusal to establish a rhythm. Alternates the speed of his strokes, letting up on her clit every so often to fondle the rest of her sex. Closing her outer lips to give them some respite from being held open only to part one side or the other again, smirking at the sticky noises this makes. He trips a couple of fingers down to the entrance of her opening, taking turns to ease each of them in slightly, tickling the first inch or so of her inner walls, penetrating her just enough to imply there’s more to come before withdrawing instead.

“Ah gods – damn it, you – _ah_ –” Shortly enough Moana’s close to clawing at her own legs. Her eyes squeezing tightly shut only for her to force them back open in order to peer down the length of her body, craning her neck in the attempt to see.

“Yeah?” Maui alternates between likewise avidly watching and glancing up at her expression to ensure she remains on board with all this. Unable to edit his own expression, which is no doubt broadcasting just how very much he’s revelling in what he’s doing to her.

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana sounds frantic in the best of ways, “Damn you, yes –”

Maui gleefully takes this as his sign to stop.

“Oh gods, Maui, you – _argh!_ ” she makes an explosive noise.

“Something you wanted?” Drawing both hands completely away from her sex, he licks his fingers, giving her flustered face a cocky grin.

“I think there just might be!” Moana looks tempted to kick him, “Are you _waiting_ for someone to interrupt us?”

“Do you think they will?” Maui says just to mess with her (he’s got a portion of his senses set on alert for just in case anyone does dare approach). He endeavours to look worried, “Damn, can’t risk anyone seeing their chief like this. Better get you cleaned up.”

He bends his head to lick a playful line up the inside of her thigh.

“M–Maui,” Moana squirms.

“All right?” Maui sets about his appointed task, mouthing at the wetness there, taking his time. He shifts to accommodate her when Moana lets go of herself to swing her legs one by one over his shoulders.

“Hmph. _Maybe_ ,” she bumps him with her heels, one hand falling on her belly, the other curving over his head to smooth through his hair.

“Only maybe?” Maui glances up at her, making eye contact, “That mean you want me to quit winding you up? Get a move on instead?” The whole point of teasing her like this is that she _enjoy_ it.

“Don't –” Moana blurts.

“Don't?” Maui repeats, “Meaning…”

Moana’s hand flattens on the top of his head. She pushes, a grin curling at the corner of her lips, “Meaning use your mouth.” Then adds pointedly, “Make me come. Not immediately, but – soon.”

“Yeah?” Maui flashes her an answering grin. He can do that. Positioning his mouth where she wants it, he doesn’t touch yet, just lets her feel his breath. He takes the opportunity to adjust himself (damn it, he's leaking copiously enough he could do with some cleaning up himself), “Going to let me kiss you after doing this?”

“You don’t seem to be doing anything yet,” Moana shrugs. She removes her hand from her belly to tuck her arm under her head so she can see him with less effort, “So I really can’t say either way.”

“Guess I’d better kiss you here first then to help you decide,” Maui leans his weight onto his elbow again so he can open her sex back up. He drops a kiss to her clit.

“Yes, you’d – you’d better do that,” Moana’s reply is mostly breath.

So Maui does. He presses another kiss to her clit before giving it a slow, warm suck. Timing it until Moana stutters, her face slackening in pleasure, and she’s pushing up into it.

Then once that’s achieved, he signally avoids it. Turns his attention to the rest of her sex, giving it a good nuzzle before licking, resuming his ‘cleaning’ (oddly enough it seems to only get her messier). Keeping his teeth well out of it, he sucks on each of her outer lips and then the inner ones, paying them the attention they deserve before gliding back and forth over her opening with his tongue. Burrowing it in to get a proper taste of her, relishing Moana’s mewls and gasps.

Really, he could do this happily all day.

Moana’s got her eyes shut tight by the time he eases up, turning her head from side to side as she pants, her hand fisted in his curls, fingers squeezing. Just to see her reaction, Maui rubs her clit with the tip of his nose. She thrashes.

He consequently stops a second time. Asks conversationally, “So that help you make your mind up?”

“ _Argh_ , you –” The descriptors Moana reels off are inventive enough he’s quite impressed; her face radiant as she curses him out.

“Oh, you wound me,” Maui can’t conceal his evil smirk. He gives her sex a farewell-for-now kiss before grazing another against the crease of her thigh, her hip and stomach, ushering her legs off his shoulders, waiting while she stretches. Then he reaches out to catch Moana’s hand in his, tugging her gently into sitting half upright.

Leaning over and in to meet her, he kisses her snarling mouth. Moana promptly bites him.

“You cheat,” she accuses but she’s also laughing, her hips bucking when returns his hand to her sex.

“What, me, cheat?” Maui protests, savouring that bite. He wraps an arm under her shoulders to cushion her, cradling her close against him, their legs tangling a little, “I would never.”

And then he kisses her again. Sharing the taste of her as he finally slips a finger fully inside.

“ _At_ _last_ ,” Moana gasps, her knees knocking him as she pushes herself into it. She scrabbles at him, “Come on, more. Move.”

It’s immeasurably easier than it was yesterday.

“ _Sure_ you’re not at all sore?” Maui checks nonetheless. He well remembers her claiming she was ‘fine’ last night when she wasn’t.

“I could still feel you inside me this morning,” Moana breathes against his mouth. She trails her fingers down Maui’s torso, wriggling a little so she can reach, smirking as his legs jerk and his cock leaps into her hand, “That’s what I started to tell you earlier. I could still feel you inside me and it was _good_.”

“Oh gods –” Maui’s been steadfastly ignoring his own arousal for a long while now (though he might possibly have been doing a bit of squirming himself in the futile attempt to control and diffuse just how turned on he is). He’s sharply and inevitably reminded of it now, the thick heaviness of his cock as Moana presses it against his belly, the way he can feel it pulse in time with his heart.

The smile Moana gives him is sweet with a hint of tease, “Do you want to put this back inside me where it belongs?”

And again with the _oh gods_. Because that expression does something to him, just as much as the question. And Maui and his cock can wholly agree: it _does_ belong inside her and he wants to be back in there so damn much –

“ _Yes_ , but not yet,” It takes more effort to say this than it does to raise entire islands, “Going to make you come first.”

“Oh?” Moana squeezes her sex around his finger, “I thought you’d forgotten all about that.”

“Course I haven’t _forgotten_ ,” Maui snorts. He's both following her instructions (granted his own interpretation of them to an extent) and doing as he's planned all along.

And the time for teasing is over.

Kissing Moana, he crooks his finger, not moving it all that much, just pressing gently, rubbing against the front wall of her sex. Locates the spot that makes her pant, petting it in time with the movements of his mouth. Building Moana back up again after the pause, getting her good and ready to come before withdrawing the finger only to press in again with two.

Once they’re situated, he doesn’t move them.

“Going to show me how you like it?” he asks.

“Mm _yes_ ,” Moana rocks up against his fingers, small rolls of her hips, bracing her feet against the floor. Her kisses quickly grow more fervent, her hand warm and resting on his cock, clutching at it a little (and gods is that good), hooking her other arm around his neck to allow him no room for escape, “Kiss me, kiss me more, come on –”

“Fine, fine, if I _have_ to –” (“You do!”) Grinning, Maui does.

He kisses Moana like he did earlier; kisses her and kisses her until he forgets himself and knows only her. Kisses her until she’s groaning freely into his mouth and he realises she’s making trembling, truncated little thrusts and he’s rocking his fingers into her likewise, keeping pace with her rhythm, circling that place on the front wall of her sex just as he’s circling his thumb against her clit.

“Don’t stop,” Moana gasps between kisses, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop –” and Maui kisses her when she can no longer speak, kisses her while she clenches and tightens around him, her whole body curling into his, going taut. Kisses her while she gulps out long, low sobbing noises he’s never heard her make before, her hand pushing unintentionally hard against his cock until it almost hurts.

In all honesty it's the only thing that prevents him from coming as well.

“All right?” Maui has to seek out Moana’s expression when her head falls back, her body gradually going loose and lax against his. Has to run his fingers through her sweaty hair, press kisses against her forehead and temples, roll them over onto their sides to give her a change from being on her back, “That all right, darling, wasn’t too much for you?”

Because she did tell him yesterday she always had to rush in the past and this was entirely deliberately anything but.

He doesn’t notice what he calls her.

Moana buries her face into his neck, huffing as she regains her equilibrium. When she pulls back, her grin is larger than he’s ever seen.

“That was _awesome_ ,” she says with feeling, “Do it again!”

“Sure,” As much as he would like to, Maui loses his battle in disregarding his cock’s desperate pleading, “But first can I, er –”

Moana smirks, “Can you ‘er’? I don’t know, can you?”

He has to laugh and she laughs along with him.

“Come on, tell me what you want, although I think I can guess. And Maui, after doing all that and giving me the _best orgasm ever_?” Moana’s smirk softens into a smile, “You can do anything you want.”

 

 

_A/N:_

_*Potential trigger warning: brief non-graphic discussion of male subincision._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Important* please note chapter trigger warning for non-graphic withdrawn consent (not main pairing). Please skip to A/N at end for a bit more detail if wanted.
> 
> Some mood whiplash and a couple of revelations here.

 

Anything he wants? Now isn’t _that_ tempting.

“You look like so many incredibly dirty ideas have occurred to you that you can’t choose which one to pick first,” Moana observes gleefully.

This is an accurate description of Maui’s expression. His eyes feel glazed due to the myriad possibilities running rampant through his brain, all of them trying to simultaneously emerge from his mouth.

“Reckon I can pick one,” he nonetheless manages to protest (that is, hopefully as a starting point).

“Are you going to tell me?” Moana prompts when he doesn’t immediately elaborate.

“Uh –” His difficulty speaking isn’t aided by her hand on his cock. She’s rubbing her thumb against the crown of his dick, easing into the slit to press against the sensitive glans, her fingers taking turns to shift against his shaft without any discernible pattern. It’s delightfully tortuous – and noticeably reminiscent of how he teased her.

If he had any doubt over whether this is deliberate, the mischievous spark lighting Moana’s eyes would clarify it.

“Or would you like me to guess?” she grins up at him as if she has no idea why he’s fidgeting and failing to produce an answer, “You did agree you want to be back inside me…”

“Yup,” Indeed Maui can’t stress his agreement with this enough. They’re still on their sides, lying close enough to see and touch, Moana’s head pillowed on his outstretched arm. He smooths his free hand over her hip and, when she doesn’t object, onto the curve of her ass.

It’s really rather wonderful.

“But still ‘not yet’?” Moana presses into the touch so Maui spreads his fingers appreciatively. Wanting to be back inside her with a craving so acute he can taste it.

But she’s right. Not yet.

Because – okay fine, because it's probable he'll come embarrassingly quickly if he gets to penetrate her. And nope. That’s not allowed. He’s got plans for when he’s next inside her. After all there’s something he significantly failed to do last night. Something he's intending to rectify.

So, “Yeah, not yet,” he concurs, “Later. If that’s all right with you.”

“Later is all right with me,” Moana smirks, “That is, depending on your definition of the word: I do recall your concept of ‘soon’. Going by that I think ‘later’ would mean at least tomorrow.”

“Heh, later today,” Though Maui certainly won’t say no to sex with her tomorrow _as well_. He’s not about to risk asking when Moana needs to get back to her people or the long list of tasks he expects the council will have stored up for her: he's going to take every minute she'll grant him and then battle the urge to try and convince her for more.

“So,” Moana says brightly, “I believe I’m right in thinking you might like to have an orgasm.”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Yes, Maui might like that.

Her fingers close around his shaft, unerringly tightening the exact right amount. Moana grins like she’s scented victory as he has to forcibly stop himself from thrusting into her hand.

“I’m going to guess I could just keep touching you like this. Is it what you chose?”

“Hmm, maybe,” Given the location of his own hand on her ass however, there’s something Maui’s undeniably curious about, “Let me try something a second?” Telegraphing his intent, he spreads his fingers, letting them dip gently between her cheeks. Knowing this could be an entirely new touch for Moana. “This okay? Tell me if it’s not.” He brushes the little pucker hidden there.

“I’ll let you know,” One of Moana’s eyebrow slants upwards. She doesn't move into the touch like she did previously, but nor does she pull away. “Is this a hint about what you want me to do to you?”

“You really –” Maui’s damn tempted to say an enthusiastic yes. To give his dick a determined squeeze – would be worth it – and let Moana go for it, if she truly is willing. It’s been a long time since his prostate last got a good workout, not even counting a thousand years alone on a rock. Not something many partners in the past might have done for him (not something he felt completely comfortable asking for perhaps – or, more accurately, steering the situation towards).

And maybe, just maybe, it’s something that _really_ gets him going.

But – and this is a crucially important ‘but’ – it also severely challenges his ability to control his strength. Destroying the floor of this hut is nothing compared to the damage he could accidentally do if he forgets himself.

And just as crucially important, Maui’s conscious that offering something even repeatedly isn’t the same as doing it. Whether _he’ll_ like it isn’t even approaching what ultimately matters.

And –

_And_ he can’t deny the suspicion his fingers are currently somewhere Moana might prefer they were not. He hasn’t been moving them or attempting anything more, waiting for that promised confirmation, but her general lack of reaction so far is telling.

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Moana says, heartfelt, sensing his hesitation. Right as Maui’s about to remind her about ‘letting him know’, she releases his dick, reaching behind her to close her hand over his on her ass.

Maui’s dick would strongly like to throw a tantrum in protest at the loss. It goes willfully ignored.

“Rather I didn’t keep touching you there, right?” He withdraws his fingers at once, transferring his hand to the safer territory of her thigh.

“I’m not sure,” Moana appears genuinely undecided, “It’s not bad, but…”

Yeah, not bad doesn't mean it's good.

Maui’s internally kicking himself. It’s the first time he’s done something she doesn’t like. Couldn’t have known, but still. “Sorry, shouldn’t have –”

“I thought it was worth trying,” Moana awards him a poke and a grin, “It just doesn’t seem to do anything for me. Also I’m fairly sure I don’t want you to put your fingers in me like that.” She hesitates momentarily, a frown creeping into existence over the bridge of her nose, “Is it weird I _don’t_ want you to touch me in a way I _do_ want to touch you?”

“Nah, it’s not weird,” Maui reassures her. Because it isn’t. He’s encountered both women who liked it and men who didn’t, as well as the opposite. His smirk is on the sheepish side, “Glad you told me. Let me know if I mess up again, won’t you.”

“I will do, although you didn’t mess up,” Moana’s gaze is steady on his, “The same to you: do tell me if I do something you don’t like.” Her fingers leave his hand to settle and resettle on his forearm, an indecipherable emotion surfacing in her eyes. Her frown lingers faintly, “Are you really glad I told you?”

"Course I am," Why wouldn't he be? Maui shrugs, “Said last night, didn’t I. Not going to make a fuss if you’re not into something or change your mind, or if you want to stop at any point.”

He’s not going to forgive himself if Moana’s unclear about any of this.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to,” he puts it as plainly as possible. Squints at her, “You know this, right?”

To his vast relief Moana’s reply is immediate, her tone certain.

“I do know it,” she uncurls her legs, rolling onto her back. Her chuckle is not quite rueful as she straightens out, her concentration on stretching as she mutters, “I’m so glad you’re not like my cousin.”

Damn right Maui’s not like that idiot (he starts to puff up smugly). But –

Wait.

“Hey,” There’s an implication there he’s not sure he likes in the slightest. He pushes up on an elbow to better see her expression, “Moana, what do you mean? Your cousin give you grief about things not going right?” An even less pleasant possibility occurs to him, “Or did they do something else wrong you didn’t tell me about yesterday?”

He has the terrible feeling the answer is going to be yes to both.

“I didn’t intend to bring them up again and not now,” Self-directed annoyance flashes across Moana's face, but then she smiles at him, “I did mean it even so. I’m so glad you’re not like them. At all.”

Yeah, so is Maui. That’s not his concern at the moment though.

When he doesn’t say anything, she wrinkles her nose, “And all right, yes. My cousin did do something else wrong.”

“Going to tell me what it was?” Maui keeps his tone light, not wanting to push, “Don’t have to, but my mind’s not going to a fun place here.”

He's absolutely certain it's something worse than ‘octopus’ kissing and incompetent groping – both of which are bad enough.

“I don’t mind telling you, but wouldn’t you rather I do so later?” Moana darts an apologetic glance down at his mournful cock. Her lips quirk, “I’m sure there are other things we’d both much rather do and think about now.”

“Got to admit there’s stuff I’d prefer to be imagining -" Yeah and doing, "But…” While Maui’s dick is pleading with him to put this conversation off, he finds he can’t. Regardless how turned on he is (or likely soon to be _was_ ), when it comes down to it an orgasm is just an orgasm, however good.

Moana is far more important. Immeasurably so.

“Forget about me,” Maui’s aware of the crookedness of his grin as he says this and the way Moana’s eyebrows shoot up (yeah yeah, not a phrase that usually - or more like ever - comes out of his mouth and certainly not one that's easy to say at a time like this. But he means it), “I kind of really need to know, if you’re okay with telling me now.”

“I am,” Her hair tumbling over her shoulders, Moana sits up, tucking her feet neatly to one side. Her ‘sincere’ face appears well and truly in earnest as she scans his expression, her gaze oddly searching, "If you're absolutely sure."

"Yup." He is.

“Okay,” she says after a moment, “It’s not a long story. I’ll tell you it in brief.” Her tone is nonchalant, but she drops her gaze to her fingers. “Essentially my cousin and I were fumbling ineptly, and they did something I definitely didn't like. When I told them to stop, they objected and said ‘but _’_.”

“What,” The word spills flatly out of Maui's mouth. Any thought of arousal vanishing, he propels himself upright, placing his hands carefully on the floor either side of him. He'd been hoping against hope it _wasn't_ something like this.

“My cousin then tried to convince me to carry on doing it anyway, because _they_ were enjoying it,” Moana snorts indignantly, “As if that was all that mattered.”

“ _What_ ,” Wood creaks in warning beneath Maui’s fingers. Because wow, hello anger. “When you say ‘convince’ –”

“Only verbally,” The reassuring smile Moana shoots him is twisted at the edges, “Although there’s no ‘only’ about it really, is there. I put an end to things quickly at that point and, while we didn’t talk about everything else that went wrong, I did tell my cousin how unimpressed I was with them for trying that.”

“Hope you had your oar on hand to give them a good smack,” Maui grits out. However aware he is Moana doesn’t need him to charge to her defence, he still has to battle the urge to march out of this little hut and mash that damned cousin into the ground.

“I’ll admit I was tempted to bash the idea of ‘consent’ into them,” Moana’s smirk shows her teeth. “You know since leaving Motunui and meeting people outside my tribe, I’ve had the opportunity to become acquainted with being underestimated or not listened to at first,” She gives him a dry look, “Especially by older men.”

Maui cringes. Guilty as charged and far from something he’s proud of (and that’s not even the worst of how he treated her initially, damn him. They may have talked it out a few years ago – he may have even apologised for certain parts – but that hardly makes up for it).

“This is something I always _greatly_ _appreciate_ ,” Moana adds, briefly teasing, no doubt at least partly in response to how worked up he is. She sobers on a sigh, “However I did expect my cousin to listen to me, particularly during sex.”

“Damned right they should’ve listened to you,” Maui would sorely like to introduce his fist to this cousin’s face.

“I know,” Moana slides a hand over one of his. The feeling of her fingers slipping between his eases some of the pressure he’s struggling not to exert on the floor (the last thing they want is for the hut to collapse under them).

“So when I told you yesterday sex with my cousin was rubbish and unsatisfying,” her laugh contains a huff, “While that was far from the only reason, it contributed a lot towards why.”

“I’m sorry,” Maui blurts before he can prevent or edit himself. He reaches out with his free hand to brush a lock of hair away from her face, the pad of his thumb sliding over her cheekbone, “Darling, I’m so sorry you had to endure all that – that –”

Words fail him. He lets his hand fall back uselessly into his lap.

Moana doesn’t need him to fix things for her. Maui’s powerless not to want to anyway. Knowing he shouldn’t even if he could (he’d like to think he’s finally learned that much). Knowing that however good the sex might have been – and he very much hopes _will be_ – between them, there’s nothing he can do to make up for the crap her cousin put her through; that abysmal experience she had.

Damn it, some hero to all he is. He’s never been that to Moana, has he?

“Ugh,” Maui scrubs his forehead, exasperated with himself and such thoughts. Starting to shove his fingers through his curls, he falls still at the feel of the flowers she wound among them earlier. They’re coming loose, dislodged during _earlier activities_.

He’s never felt less like he deserves them.

“Maui?” Moana shifts next to him, rising onto her knees. A question that’s more than just his name in her voice.

“Mm?” he winces, “Don’t mean to –” He can’t articulate it. But the last thing he wants is to make this about him.

“Thank you,” Moana says softly, serious.  

“No don’t,” Maui’s grimace feels profound, “Really. Don’t thank me.”

“But I do,” Moana insists, her fingers tightening around his. He startles at the realisation they’re still holding hands.

“Why?” Unfortunately this emerges as a croak. Sneaking a peek at her, he finds her dark eyes direct on his face, scanning him as closely as she did previously, her gaze once again searching.

Searching for what?

"You're a good man," Moana smiles, "I don't mean - Not just because of how you reacted about my cousin. But generally, even if you sometimes hide it. It's there, isn't it; I've long thought so. You're good."

Maui doesn’t intend to stare. There are many things he could say in response, but -

“Think you mean I'm the world’s most perfectly awesome demigod,” he gets out after a tellingly long moment spent speechless. He's had plenty of praise and adulation in the past from adoring fans, sure. One or two tribes even full on worshipped him long ago, after some of his biggest stunts. But maybe no one – okay, definitely no one –

No one has ever said such a thing about him.

“I mean _despite_ that,” There’s a wealth of cheekiness in Moana’s smirk.

Maui can only snort (because deep down, so deep he can barely acknowledge it, something in him isn't sure it agrees. He’s done incredible things yes, great things, but they don't make him _good_ , not like a former not-princess turned master wayfinder and chief. Not like, for a long time, he thought they did. But Moana makes him better; she always has done. Not that he’s planning on telling her this).

"Hey," he nudges her gently instead. Swallows the betraying huskiness to his voice, “Not bad yourself, you know.”

This is a mild understatement.

“I think you mean I’m the best ever,” Moana tosses her hair back, striking a pose. Maui’s suddenly sharply reminded they’re both naked, stridently endeavouring not to notice the resulting movement of her breasts.

An intense pang of desire – along with something else – fills his throat.

“Don’t know I’d go that far,” he claims nevertheless, just to provoke her.

“Hey!” Moana makes her free hand into a fist, leaning in to threaten him with it. This brings her in very close. Wickedness pervades her playful retort, “You know you love me.”

“I –” Maui’s automatic glib reply falters as he registers exactly what she just said (Moana is blinking similarly as if her brain has caught up with her mouth). He instinctively resorts to denial; pulls his most incredulous face, “Whaaat? Nah, course not, what are you talking about –”

Needless to say this reaction is spectacularly unconvincing.

“Hmm?” Moana raises a teasing eyebrow, but there's a complicated mix of emotions in her tone and expression behind some fond amusement at his flailing, "You seem to be protesting an awful lot."

Before he realises what he’s doing Maui is gesturing to show her how incredibly small an amount of love he might – _might!_ – have for her is. The confession is purely hypothetical of course (what else would it be?).

“Ugh fine, if you want to tell yourself that,” he ensures his groan is extremely reluctant, “I suppose I might have a teeny, tiny –”

There is a split second in which the sentence stalls, the words stifled by a stab of something ridiculous that does not in any way resemble panic (just what is he _saying?_ ). Then,

“Penis,” Moana helpfully supplies.

It's unexpectedly inappropriate, enough that Maui bursts into laughter so hard he has to wipe away tears, irrefutably relieved by the interruption. Grateful to hear her laugh along with him, the sudden tension between them easing.

“Yeah,” he agrees when he’s able. Because really. “Yeah that.”

“I can tell you from experience it’s not anything like ‘small’,” is Moana’s arch response, but when she moves she doesn’t reach for his dick. Instead she places her free hand on his chest, right over the place where her miniature doppelgänger usually resides. No longer any sign of joking. Courage, affection and familiar determination filling her eyes and her smile.

“You must know I love you,” she says simply, "At least as much as you love me."

And that's – 

That's – 

"Heh," He must know that, must he?

Maui can safely say he has no idea what his face is doing, let alone anything else. Plenty of people - multitudes of them, _scores_ \- have said they love him in the past; it goes without saying. Gods, other demigods, mortals... the list goes on. Something he's absolutely accustomed to hearing all the time, yup.

(There's an itch on the back of Maui's neck under his curls like a particular tattoo might be stirring to life, maybe echoing Moana's earlier comment about protesting too much. He sends it a mental shut up).

He's aware he ought to respond. So, "Thanks?" he tries. Cringing at the inadequacy of this.

"You're welcome," Moana doesn't quite sing-song. Sensing his regrettably obvious continued floundering she tips her head, an air of utmost innocence settling over her as she conversationally asks, “Do you realise what you’ve called me twice now?”

He – what? Still reeling, Maui has to cast his mind back to figure out what she means. Grasping onto this out she’s offering him, such as it is. “Called you…?”

Ah. That.

Crap.

“I, er. Didn’t realise?” Honestly he hadn’t. Mostly.

“Are you answering my question with a question?” The mischief in Moana’s tone overlies something inscrutable. Her palm remains warm over his heart, grounding; the fingers of her other hand entwined with his.

Maui struggles to get himself together. This takes far more effort than it should. “Shouldn’t have called you that.” Not without establishing whether she minded first. “It was out of line. I’m –”

“Don’t apologise,” Moana says before he can, “I don’t mind. I like it.”

“You do?” Maui all but deflates in relief, despite having to battle a sizable portion of disbelief. She likes it? And what’s more – he can't get over this _– she loves him_?

Although she means she loves him as her best friend and all round awe-inspiring local demigod, right. Right? Because he loves her as –

As –

Yeah. As ever, Moana’s correct. He does love her.

(Of course he loves her).

Nothing ‘teeny, tiny’ about it. Couldn’t even make out otherwise successfully when he tried.

Unaware of Maui’s thoughts – thank the gods – trouble is suffusing Moana’s growing smirk. She prods him, “You do realise I reserve the right to call you something in return.”

He gets the impression it will be something wholly inappropriate.

“Fair enough,” he looks forward to it. Has to double check despite himself, “So. All right if I keep calling you that?” Because now he’s started there’s the chance he might not stop.

(This is not precisely what he’s asking her).

“You can call me ‘darling’ whenever you want, sweet cheeks,” Moana laughs at the look he gives her. She peers up at him in patently false guilelessness, “Not that?”

“Yeah, maybe not,” It’s a token protest. Because whatever she wants to call Maui is just fine by him and he's sure Moana knows it.

“Hmm, so many possibilities,” she looks delighted by the thought of trying out as many embarrassing endearments as she can come up with. And Moana teasing him is great and good and so reassuringly normal and – and –

Damn it, he should not be aching to request she clarify exactly how and to what extent and amount she loves him.

“Moana,” Her name trips out of him unintentionally, “What did you…” Maui hastily bites back the rest.

“What did I... what?” Moana lets go of his hand, untangling her fingers from his (he doesn't suffer another jolt of panic, thank you very much), but only so she can reach up to his curls. Tucking a stem back into place, she chides, “Look, you’ve all but pulled out the flowers Hei-Hei so kindly gifted you from my lei po'o. Don’t you like them?”

Now _that’s_ another question that means something else entirely.

“Me?” Maui splutters all the same, “Distinctly recall it was you who nearly pulled them out when I, uh –”

Moana’s still ever so close to him, her eyes on her handiwork, but he has no doubt she knows how fervently his dick twitches at the reminder of everything he did to her.

“When you ‘uh’ indeed,” her smirk is rich with memory. But then she chews her lip. Shifting back to make eye contact, she abruptly blurts, “Maui, I have to ask. Am I wildly misinterpreting here? _Do_ you –” She cuts herself off; tries again, "Because I think that I - No, I _know_ that I -"

Maui's heartbeat has gone inexplicably irregular. This might have something to do with the fact he's holding his breath. What Moana's saying (or attempting to) somehow seems to be of vital importance.

“ _Mo–ana?_ ”

She breaks off mid-sentence as they both freeze, staring at each other at the sound of a voice calling from outside the little hut. There's the chance Maui has forgotten to be keeping an ear out for any interlopers for some time now.

The curse Moana hisses is not at all chief-like. She yanks at her hair in frustration.

“My mother. I _knew_ we’d be interrupted,” Leaping to her feet, she scrambles for her clothes, grabbing the lavalava instead. She throws it on over her shoulders like a shawl, “I doubt she'll come in, but who knows if some of my cousins are trailing her -" she smirks at Maui "- to try for another glimpse of your teeny, tiny dick."

Yeah, Moana's going to get a lot of enjoyment out of that one for some time, isn't she (he can only grin). The bundle of material she tosses in the direction of said body part turns out to be her skirt.

Maui can only chuckle, “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”

“Drape it over yourself fetchingly?” About to dash to the exit, she halts, turning back to him.

"Want me to come with?" It seems only right to offer.

“No, you’re good,” she rests her hand on top of his head; taps him on the forehead with her index finger, "Hey, Maui."

"Yeah?" Maui glances up at her in askance.

"This," Moana swoops down and kisses him firm on the mouth.

It’s both very similar to the first time she kissed him last night and yet in no way the same. He returns the kiss at once, unable to stop himself. Rising up into it, his hands itching to cup her face.

It ends far too quickly.

Moana pulls back a little breathlessly, her dark eyes shining. She licks her lips, “Stay here."

Then she’s skidding nimbly across the hut and out of the exit to intercept her mother. Maui’s left staring after her, catching himself in the action of lifting his hand to his mouth. For all its brevity and for all he can’t pinpoint how –

That kiss felt utterly different to every single one that came before.

Moana’s not that far away outside, conducting a brief exchange with Sina. Maui’s hearing is acute enough he’s obliged to make a decent amount of noise himself so not to unintentionally eavesdrop (mostly by humming. There’s a new song he promised Moana last night after all). He raises an eyebrow in enquiry when she returns, only for the other one to promptly join it: she’s sporting the lavalava wrapped several times around her torso, just long enough for modesty, his necklace of (mementos) assorted teeth looped over her slender shoulders and a basket heaped with food filling her arms. Her expression is caught between exasperation and amusement.

“Your mum’s been busy, huh,” Maui can identify Sina’s handiwork when he smells it.

“I’m still deciding whether to forgive her for interrupting,” Moana rolls her eyes, but her lips are twitching, "She forbade any of my cousins from accompanying her at least." She consents to pass over her armful when he reaches for it, “Apparently my mum's convinced we must have built up an appetite. We long missed lunchtime and the food they saved for us then. My dad helped cook some of this fresh for us too.” Folding herself down next to him, she tugs at the necklace, “He also found this wherever you chucked it during dinner last night. Blame my mum for the fact I’m wearing it.”

There's the chance Maui might have become fairly enthusiastic telling tall stories to her tribespeople yesterday early on in the main hut.

“Suits you,” he reaches behind her to help scoop it off and set it aside, making sure it doesn't get caught in her hair. Offers before he thinks it through, “Can make you one of your own, if you like?”

Really he can come up with no possible reason why Moana would accept. The necklace clashes with more or less every outfit and accessory he’s ever seen her wear. But the size of her resultant grin easily surpasses the one she gave last night to their diminutive tattooed selves.

“If it wouldn’t fall off me, I’d be tempted to ask if I can keep yours,” The cheeky admission doesn't distract Maui from the beguiling flush that rises on Moana's cheeks (if it wouldn't fall off, well. Maybe he'd give it to her). “So yes, do make me my own.”

Then she ducks her head, going remarkably and uncharacteristically almost - almost _shy_ , “I’d like that.”

Extremely intrigued by this reaction, Maui has to clear his throat, "Will do then." Maybe with smaller teeth.

While he's still stunned by how pleased she seems about the prospect, Moana draws herself up and cheerfully announces, “If you’re going to stick around here with us – with me – for a while longer, you can accompany me while I get some tattoos.”

That's -

Maui has to blink away the glaze that seeks to return to his eyes. Because _hell yes_.

“Kind of thought maybe you didn’t want any,” he has to point out, while his mind remains transfixed by the idea.

“I _kind of_ wanted to wait until you were here,” Moana gives him a poke, “Not that I need you to hold my hand.” She glances at the temporarily vacated spot on his chest she earlier touched, her expression softening, “But it seemed appropriate.”

She’s waited a good couple of years for that? Damn it, he really hadn’t intended to be away that long. He might also have left rather suddenly after her inauguration (more like immediately after it, damn _him_. Though he’d had his reasons).

“Moana,” Maui gives in to the need to touch her. He cups her cheek in his palm like he’s been wanting, runs his fingers down the graceful arch of her neck, lets them dip under the edge of the lavalava. Tells her honestly, “I’d be honoured.”

"It's a plan then," Moana veritably beams. She leans into it as he grazes the very soft skin between her breasts.

Despite the arousal that floods his veins - despite everything - Maui still has to ask, “Sure you’re okay with me sticking around?”

Because this is something they probably should have previously addressed, long before any of the rest of it. Moana's got no way of knowing he's been intending to ask to stay all along, even before the moment he touched down on this island yesterday and saw her running to fling herself at him in greeting. Not just because of the sex, although that’s an excellent bonus. Not just because of the conversation Sina interrupted, left unfinished, lingering unforgettably between them.

But because when it comes right down to it, he’s already missed enough of Moana’s life. He’s planning on hanging around until she gets thoroughly sick of him.

“Mm, maybe,” Mirth dances in Moana’s eyes, coupled with unmistakable joy. She grabs his hand, drops a kiss on his palm, “ _Yes_. You should know you’re welcome here as long as you want. Although I was thinking about asking you to come with me when I _leave_.”

“You were?” She’s intending to go back to sea? Maui doesn’t bother to hide how much he relishes this revelation.

“I’ve spent the last few weeks convincing the council that everyone can do without me now we’re established here,” Moana explains, “Funnily enough I was considering having a glance around the ocean for any sign of you - alongside finding myself another adventure.” She grins broadly, “So how about we have one together?”

Now if that doesn’t sound indescribably awesome –

“You think you can keep up with me?” Maui goads as if he isn’t urgently damping down the sheer intensity of his answering grin.

“You think _you_ can keep up with _me_?” Moana fires back.

She’s got a point.

Shaking herself, she glances at the basket, “Anyway we’re risking my mum’s wrath by not eating. Which do you prefer first? Do you want to have lunch now or to finish the rest of that conversation she so rudely disturbed? Or do you want that orgasm I owe you?”

Maui doesn’t quite choke, “I thought you’d forgotten all about that.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Moana’s impish smirk is full of promise, “But I can also hear your stomach complaining. Come on, we can talk while we eat and then do _other things_ afterwards. I should have brought you more breakfast.”

“Or I could have gone and got us both lunch a while ago, and saved your mum bringing it,” Maui shrugs, as indeed he could have done - and he can't be the only one hungry, “Guess we were both a bit –”

“Distracted?” Moana provides. She begins unearthing the contents of the basket and he hastens to aid her, taken aback on discovering a large variety of his favourite foods.

“You –” Maui doesn’t know how to ask.

“All my parents’ doing,” Moana hands him a plate, “Though I might have dropped a few suggestions when I saw them this morning.”

“Heh, thanks,” he elbows her to cover how touched he is (she easily evades), “You know, I sort of reckoned your parents –”

Once again:  _crap_. He so didn’t intend to say that out loud.

There’s both a knowing undercurrent and a lot of empathy in Moana’s response, “You thought they didn’t approve of us.”

Us.

If truth be told it's more like Maui can't convince himself that - behind their friendly politeness - her parents approve of _him_. Still he's not going to argue Moana's phrasing (he latches onto it instead). Realising she's serving him all the best bits of the food, he retaliates by doing the same for her.

“Nah,” That done he next busies himself with a mouthful, pretending indifference to what she’s just said, “This is good.”

It’s totally not a diversionary tactic.

Moana smirks, undeterred, “I told you my parents suspected something before your little _vocal indiscretion_ last night, didn’t I.” She swallows her first mouthful and munches on a second, “They’ve been convinced something’s going on between us since you came to my inauguration ceremony two years ago.”

“Mm yeah? What did they say?” Maui’s not sure he wants to know. But there’s that ‘us’ again.

“My dad thought he saw you – looking at me,” Moana doesn’t need to explain how, “And my mum says the way you talk about me is – well.” She strikes her ‘seated chief’ pose, “I told them it was far more likely you were just overawed back then by my newly chiefly self. Or otherwise by my outfit.”

It had been a pretty impressive outfit. The person wearing it had been pretty impressive too.

“Don’t reckon I remember,” Maui professes loftily.

Moana quite rightly doesn't believe him.

“You do remember,” she gives him a _look_ before turning serious, plucking at a stray strand of the basket, “In honesty I thought that when you saw me for the first time back then as Chief, you realised I was growing up. That I would continue to get older. And then at some point I would die.”

Maui will admit it took him a long time (for mortals) to register Moana had become an adult. He’d known before her inauguration, but that might have been the point he truly realised it.

Likewise she might be correct about his thoughts back then and the reason he fled – that is, left without warning.

“Yeah, about that,” Maui’s mouth drawls before his brain can deliver it a harsh mental kicking. This is something a green goddess of their mutual acquaintance has expressly instructed him not to talk about (and he actually mostly agrees with her. No matter how much part of him might really, really, really want to).

“Mm, about what?” Moana’s startled out of her story. She blinks, “My mortality? Why would that be -” She stops to side-eye him in puzzlement mingled with the beginnings of suspicion, "There's something you're not telling me."

She's going to see through every attempt he makes to pretend otherwise, isn't she, and Maui's not about to flat out lie to her. So... Oops? Looks like he might be in trouble again.

Te Fiti's going to be _pissed_.

 

 

_A/N:_

_End of part two._

_(Pay off for this chapter is in the following ones :))_

 

 

_*Trigger warning* non-explicit discussion of potential sexual coercion and withdrawn consent / implied attempted non-con (not main pairing)._


	11. Chapter 11

Part Three

 

“I…probably shouldn’t have said that,” Maui admits.

“I can see that by your face,” Moana smiles. She’s studying his expression, her suspicion fading, “It’s not something that affects my people, is it. So I don’t need to go ‘chief’ on you.” 

There’s a core of seriousness beneath the lightness of her words. Maui can well imagine Chief Waialiki on a protective bent would be a force to be reckoned with. He’s never dealt with Moana directly as chief and doing so would probably be edifying – if potentially terrifying, depending on her mood.

And possibly really quite appealing in a way he shouldn’t examine too closely right now.

“It’s to do with me personally,” Moana is continuing piecing it together. It’s unlikely she’ll have to think too hard to work it out, “Me and you?”

“Nuh-uh,” Maui strengthens the response because this is important, “Not exactly, no.”

That is it shouldn’t involve him. Not any more than it already does; not to be fair on Moana. No matter how he might feel about it. He’s adamant he’s not going to be selfish about this however much he might want to be.

“It’s just to do with me and my mortality then,” she concludes, “But you can’t say what.”

“Mm yeah, not supposed to,” Otherwise he would have told her right away yesterday rather than holding back on it (has been trying very hard not to even think about it in fact). But now he’s accidentally said something, he can’t help but want to tell her more than ever. “Doesn’t seem right to leave you wondering though. You know even before my, uh –”

“Latest verbal indiscretion?” Moana offers.

“Yeah that,” Maui can only grin, remembering his first, “Got to admit that even before then I wasn’t completely convinced about keeping you in the dark. Could see the reason for it, for letting you live your life without having it hanging over you –” This would be Te Fiti’s rationale for keeping mum (and this is an extremely fine line he’s treading here), “– But it also seems to me like something you’d want to know.” To be able to think about and plan for rather than having it dumped on her without warning.

Moana’s been listening attentively, her eyebrows rising throughout this speech.

“You’re not hinting that I’m going to have an accident or something? That I won’t grow old after all?” she suddenly blurts, “Are you?” Shakes her head just as quickly when he opens his mouth, “No, please don’t say even if it is that. I don’t want you to get in any trouble on my behalf.”

‘Any more trouble,’ her tone implies.

“That’s not – _so_ not what I’m getting at,” Maui corrects after a second spent catching his breath (this is not something he wants to think about, particularly where Moana is concerned: the fragility and unpredictability of mortal existence). It’s not much of an assurance unfortunately, “Got no idea about that side of things.”

He’s still going to do his utmost to ensure she gets the long life she thoroughly deserves.

“To be honest I’m glad you don’t,” Moana reaches out much as she did previously, resting her hand against his chest, “I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with that knowledge. Whatever happens I’m glad for the time I have; the time I can spend with my people and my family. The time I can spend with you. I can’t promise I might not speculate about what you’re unable to tell me,” she shrugs, “But even if any other possibilities occur to me – or already have – I won’t try to guess if they're correct. I trust you.”

The way she’s looking at him Maui can’t doubt it. And he so wants to be worthy of that trust.

“When we leave this island, come with me to see Te Fiti?” he aims for nonchalance, like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t mean anything to say that ‘we’.

And in fairness to the goddess, she might not actually smite him or go full on lava rage monster in response to this latest slip up of his. It’s even possible she might not be entirely surprised. However she _is_ likely to give him her best sardonically unimpressed face.

Now is an unfortunate time for Maui to come to the realisation he’d rather avoid disappointing Te Fiti (again).

“I kind of owe her another apology,” he has to screw his face up at the confession, “And… if you’re there I reckon she might agree I can tell you – you know. What this is all about.”

What the gods have got planned for Moana. The choice they’re intending to offer her when it’s her time.

“I’d love to come with you,” Moana says so sincerely only the glint in her eye betrays her amusement at the double-entendre, “Do you think Te Fiti would mind me joining you? I wanted to return to thank her when we first landed on a new island after leaving Motunui, but the council advised against it. They thought it might be rude of me to interrupt her sleep.”

“What – why?” Maui’s genuinely perplexed by this reasoning, “Fair enough she’s pretty awesome at napping and okay, maybe needed a break after you first met her, but she has woken a couple of times since then.” He covers her hand on his chest with his own, “Come on, I guarantee she’ll be delighted by a visit from her number one favourite master wayfinder.”

Oddly he doesn’t mean him.

Grinning, Moana ducks her head, “I’d be honoured – and delighted – to see her. Do you know I’ve been wanting to thank _you_ for a long time as well. For this island we’re on now. You pulled it up out of the sea for us to find, didn’t you?”

“Yup?”  Maui had. If maybe not exactly for her people.

“Are you answering my question with a question again?” Moana’s teasing tone is filled with clear affection, “Don’t think I didn’t notice how conveniently this island was located for us to discover. Or that it somehow has all my favourite fruit trees in that wonderful grove. And my favourite flowers everywhere and that cove just right for our boats, and that mountain and that waterfall, and those great cliffs for climbing and – and the whole of it.” Stopping for a much needed breath, she finishes on close to a sigh, “It's just – perfect.”

Strangely enough Maui's currently feeling pretty fond of this island himself – and pleased with himself too for a job well done (it's possible he might have put in a smidgen more effort than usual). He’d go so far as to say he’s even feeling pretty fond of this little hut. But even so –

While he might be inwardly revelling in the flood of unanticipated praise, he nonetheless eyes her with exaggerated disbelief.

“’Perfect’?” he repeats, at his most dubious, “Reckon this island requires a vital addition before it can be called that.”

He gets an exceedingly suspicious look as a result.

“Don’t you dare say a giant statue of you posing,” Moana prods him.

 “Got it in one,” Maui gives her his toothiest grin.

“You – you –” she bursts into the laughter he was aiming for, “Never change.”

“Not likely to,” he agrees. Although he has changed hasn’t he, just a bit. He can acknowledge this. Can acknowledge that it might not even be a bad thing.

“I’d much prefer to have the real you,” Moana’s back to giving him that searching look. Maui brings his free hand up to rub his thumb over her cheekbone (he'd rather she had the real him too). “I know it sounds arrogant of me and maybe I’m just imagining it,” she says slowly, tipping her head to nestle into the touch, “But Maui… did you pull this island up for _me_?”

“Yes,” The truth spills out of him unstoppably. Because he did. He can only shrug afterwards, unable and unwilling to retract it.

“Thank you,” Moana’s expression turns wondering. She reaches up to touch the flowers wound into his curls, flowers that grew on this island he made for her, “ _Thank you_. I had no idea you even knew those things about me.”

“Guess I do know them,” What else can he say? There’s the possibility he’s been noticing things about her for some time now. Not always conscious of doing so, but noticing them all the same.

“I guess you do indeed,” Moana’s smile is small but growing swiftly, “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“Not like you don’t notice things about me too,” Maui has to point out. He gestures in example to their emptied plates; the lunch made up of his favourite foods, “Works both ways.”

“I guess it does,” Her smile deepens until it crinkles the corners of her eyes, “I'd long hoped you’d stay with me here for some time on this island, just as I hoped you’d come with me when I leave. And – here you are.” There’s that touch of wonder again as she rephrases, “You’re here.”

Maui totally does not very nearly reply with ‘for as long as you’ll have me’.

“Looks like it,” he says instead, the size of his grin belying the attempt to play it cool.

“Let me make sure?” Moana moves closer, dropping her hand to his neck to draw him in, her intention clear. Maui leans into the hongi easily, burying his fingers in her hair. He can feel the thump of his heart under Moana’s other hand where it still lies on his chest, the whisper of her breath against his lips.

“Yes, it does look like you’re here,” she murmurs.

“Reckon I am,” He can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to kiss her. About that kiss she gave him after her mum interrupted them; how it felt inexplicably different.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Moana confesses.

“So kiss me,” Maui challenges, very pleased. He bridges the distance between them, kissing her before she can indeed kiss him.

And it _is_ different. Again.

Indescribably and unmistakably so. What’s changed?

(She said she loves him, that’s what. And he – he loves her).

Moana returns the kiss only to break away, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Sorry, I –” She’s gasping faintly, laughing at her own reaction, sliding her hand out from under his. She presses her palm over her own heart, sending a dancing glance up at him and then away (she’s well aware of the difference too, isn’t she), “I don’t mean to tease.”

These words seem to strike at her and she frowns, biting her lip.

“I tease you a lot, don’t I,” Moana doesn’t wait for confirmation, “Far more than my parents or the council would approve of. They’d be horrified if they knew some of the things I say to you. I don’t treat you at all like many of my older relatives think I should. No matter that _you_ don’t treat _me_ how they think you should either.”

It’s true Maui might have received a few startled looks (maybe even some shocked or disapproving) when her people first saw how he interacts with their chief. These looks mostly stopped a few years ago and he has no illusions Moana didn’t have a hand in it.

“I’m not chief with you. I’m not chief and I’m glad for it,” There’s a lot of fondness alongside a sort of daring in the set of Moana’s mouth as she says this; in the angle of her shoulders and back. She meets his eyes squarely, “I don’t want to be unless I have to; I'd rather just be me. You’re my best friend, my demigod and my – my Maui. You’re my _Maui_ and I’m –” she raises her chin, “I’m your Moana. Aren’t I.”

There’s definitely another question hovering just beneath her words. That conversation left hanging between them feels thick in the air.

“Not arguing here,” is the best and most honest answer Maui can come up with. It feels vastly more like a confession than his previous unintended floundering. He covers it with a chuckle, “Wouldn’t dare.”

“You’d better not,” Moana nudges him before pulling a repentant face, “I _like_ teasing you, just as I like how you tease me. But did I go too far by – saying that? And by keeping on about it?”

She drops her hand to Maui’s thigh, close to his dick, her meaning inescapably clear. Maui hooks his fingertips over hers.

“You didn’t – and you didn’t ‘keep on’,” his smirk is undeniably crooked, “I, uh, kind of needed the rescue. As you were aware.”

And Moana’s good at that, isn’t she. Rescuing him.

“Don’t think you need me to tell you I _like_ your teasing – and getting to tease you back,” Maui’s smirk crooks that much further (he’s more than happy for her to talk about his cock, whatever her choice of adjectives). “‘Teeny tiny’ or not,” he jerks his chin down at the body part under discussion, “Only issue I got is with it being uncomfortable for you.”

Yeah, that part he’d happily change.

Moana blinks up at him like perhaps she didn’t expect him to say this. But it’s true.

“It wasn’t uncomfortable,” she screws up her nose, “Well it _was,_ but only at first when you were – when I didn’t know what to expect. I think you might have some idea of how good it was after that. Although we really should check again before too long just in case.”

“You think?” Maui’s dick leaps to signal its agreement. His plan similarly leaps to the forefront of his mind: however good she thinks last night was, he’s going to damn well make sure next time is _superlative_.

“I do,” she traces a tattoo with her forefinger, “But can I apologise to you quickly a little more before we do anything else?”

“You don’t need to apologise,” he gives her a look, “Go on though, say what you got to say.”

“I think I do need to,” Moana shakes her head, “It’s my fault you required that rescue in the first place, which I _did_ poorly execute. I truly didn’t intend to push you into saying – anything. I also truly didn’t intend to bring up my cousin again or to interrupt what we were doing.” She huffs, “I really wanted to carry on with it.”

Her finger travels down the inside of his thigh as she follows the line of another tattoo, making Maui shift. His dick shifts likewise.

“You weren’t at fault,” This needs sorting out so he keeps his mind on their conversation. Stresses, “You really weren’t. It's not exactly like I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t have either, right? Besides,” he smirks at the thought, “Might have given your mum a surprise if we hadn’t stopped.”

“I think she’d probably just have offered some suggestions,” Moana echoes his smirk. Then she makes an appalled face, “She’s already told me she wants to hear all about it later. To which I said no. I’m definitely editing at least some of it.”

Powerless not to chuckle at her expression, Maui tugs at a strand of Moana’s hair, looping it loosely around his forefinger. She turns her head to nip at him and he grins.

“Look, I got to say this sometime so I might as well say it now: I’m _glad_ you told me what happened with your cousin,” he lets her hear his sincerity, “Sure, your timing was interesting but that’s not what matters. You got to know I was worried, seeing what we’d been up to before that and that you didn’t like it. All sorts of bad stuff was running through my head. Knew there must be a reason you hadn’t said about it last night. Making sure you were all right was more important than –” ( _me_ ) “–anything else.”

“I should have told you yesterday,” Moana grimaces, “I nearly did.”

“Hey,” Maui tucks the strand of hair behind her ear, “No ‘should’. You’re never obliged to tell me anything. Just – you know, relieved you felt able to. Relieved you’re okay.”

This is putting it mildly.

“I am now,” Moana’s back straightens, “Please believe me that I did want to tell you before – but at the same time I _didn’t_ want to and that won out. If I had admitted the worst of it then – to myself as well as to you – I’d probably never have asked you to show me about sex. And I’m _so glad_ I did ask you that.”

“Kind of glad you did too,” Maui smirks. He doesn’t say more than that; just lets her talk.

“Only ‘kind of’?” Moana retorts in mock-offense, “I’ll remember that.” She hunches her shoulders, “Anyway everything else with my cousin was just rubbish and unsatisfactory like I said and that was fine to talk about last night. But. To have my choice and consent ignored however briefly was – not pleasant. I think I was so busy telling myself I’d dealt with that part of it and that it no longer mattered when – when I hadn’t and it did. It _did_ matter and you showed me that by stopping. By listening. Even after everything you did for me, even though you were so wound up, you stopped and you listened and you respected me.”

Struggling to swallow, his heart beating hard, Maui can’t fill the pause Moana leaves for him. Her hand has gone still on his leg, her eyes searching his. But it’s not so much like she’s looking for something anymore. It’s like she’s confirming what she’s found.

“Maui, this whole time you’ve been so good and so sweet to me, and you –” There’s a world of emotion in Moana’s expression and voice, “I said you could do anything you wanted, anything whatsoever and I meant it, but instead you chose my well-being. You chose _me_.”

She’s right. He did.

Maui maybe sort of has the feeling he’ll always choose her, not that he really wants to admit to this. Still there’s a wild impulse inside him, prodding at him to fling caution to the wind and just _tell_ her.

“Mm, maaaybe,” he does his best to crush the urge (‘always’ isn’t a word he should be tossing around at the moment anyway). Reaching out to the lavalava wrapped around Moana’s midriff, he plucks at the corner keeping it in place, “Can I?”

“I won’t ask you to say it. I know you did,” she glances down at his hand, battling an irrepressible grin, “And yes, you can.”

“Say what?” Maui pulls his version of her ‘innocent' face right as he gives that corner a tug, “No idea what you’re talking about.”

Moana snorts in reply. She does nothing to prevent the material from coming open, revealing a breast (she possibly even wriggles to encourage it to fall loose). Maui gently pinches her nipple.

“Mm –” She shifts her hips so he pinches a little harder, rolling it between finger and thumb, feeling it pebble.

Moana purses her lips. She brings her hand up from his thigh and back onto his chest. Then she pushes, “Nope.”

“’Nope’?” Halting at once, Maui takes in the unmistakable mischief in her gaze. 

“Nope, it’s not my turn,” Moana explains, “It’s not my turn for quite some time.” Lifting herself up on her knees, she brings her face in close to his, well within kissing distance. Orders, “Lie back.”

Never let it be said Maui can’t obey directives when provided with such incentive.

“Oh yeah?” he reclines under her guiding hand, arranging himself to (let’s be honest) his advantage, enjoying how Moana’s gaze immediately roves over his body, “Got something in mind?”

“ _Oh_ _yes_ ,” Arranging herself at his side, Moana checks, “Although you did think of something earlier, before you chose me. Do you want to do that instead?”

"Let’s go with what you’ve come up with for now,” Maui’s not about to dissuade her, his body reminding him of that orgasm he missed out on and the potential benefits of building up to his plan (he also has an inkling that what Moana's decided on now might just be the same as his previous choice).

“In that case, get comfortable," There's a fair amount of empathy beneath her amusement as she adds, "You know, I really don't mind if you do break more of the floor. So long as we don't fall through it."

Maui both chuckles and winces, as there is a real possibility of further damage depending where this heads, "Yeah, going to try to avoid doing that."

Moana grows briefly thoughtful before she glances over at his hook.

“If you need me to stop at any time, why don't you say ‘fishhook’," she suggests, "If that’s something you’re not likely to say during sex.” Her fingers wander up from his sternum to trace the line of his clavicle, “Or is it?” The wicked light that enters her eyes looks marvellously like inspiration, “ _Can_ you shapeshift during sex? I don’t mean in a weird way.”

Maui wisely refrains from enquiring what exactly she means by ‘weird’ (though he could make a few guesses), reasonably distracted by the way she starts playing with one of his nipples.

“I – probably can?” Much as he’d like to claim that sure he can do it, no problem, the concentration it takes to maintain a different form gets incrementally difficult the more turned on he is. Sounds like it could be worth making an effort over though, “What’ve you got in mind?”

“Not this time around, but…” Moana pulls her lower lip into her mouth, sucking on it. She gives Maui a thorough inspection from the crown of his head right down to his toes. His skin tingles in reaction, as do his balls. He props his head on one arm to give her an even better view and to aid his own look at her. The lavalava has further unravelled, crumpling down to Moana’s lap, revealing the rest of her torso.

It’s a glorious sight. 

“Can you transform into things that aren’t animals?” she asks. Before he can conjecture – or answer – she continues, “You’re a demigod but you look human…”

“This is how I’d look if I _was_ human, like I started out,” Maui shrugs lopsidedly. That is, give or take. Possibly a fraction not quite as awesome.

“Can you use your hook to shapeshift into a woman?” Moana gets to the heart of it, “Would you want to?”

He splutters, though part of his mind is supplying a great big (perhaps slightly unexpected) _hell yes_ to the latter. Because if she’s implying what he thinks she’s implying…

Sure enough, “I’d like to give you multiple orgasms,” Moana informs him. She grins widely, “Don’t get me wrong; I’m planning on giving you multiple orgasms with you as a man.”

She is, is she? Maui and his cock are both so on board with that plan.

“But I’d like to give you _multiple orgasms_ , _”_ Moana continues.

“Yeah?” Safe to say he gets the difference.

_“Yes._ Like you did for me. Having sex as a woman is amazing, as I should know,” she softens, “As you’ve shown me. I’d like to show _you_ what it’s like.”

“Heh, tempting,” Changing his sex is something Maui actually hasn’t tried. True he’s considered it a handful of times in the past – curiosity and all that – but there’s always been something inherently terrifying about the thought of even temporarily losing his cock (this isn’t something that tends to occur to him when changing into animals. Because – to use Moana's word – that would be weird).

Along with…

The question trips out of him involuntarily, “You don’t think I’d look –” bizarre; strange; wrong (take your pick) “– funky?”

“I think you’d look fantastic,” Moana says wholeheartedly. She slides a hand down his abdomen, calluses from wayfinding grazing his skin, and picks up his half-hard dick.

“Hmm,” Maui endeavours not to rise into the touch (although his cock certainly rises), “You do, do you?”

“I do,” Moana nods, “I must admit I’ve developed quite a lot of affection for this –” she gives his dick a rub of approval, making it swell happily. Releasing his nipple, she brings her other hand down to her own belly. Spreads her legs and dips her fingers under the bundled lavalava, “But I can’t help but think you might like to experience _this_ too.”

There’s no mistaking the way she touches herself then beneath the fabric, her hips rocking into the feel of it, holding his gaze.

“O–oh gods,” Maui’s cock stiffens to full hardness so swiftly and enthusiastically he almost yelps. His nipples tighten in sync with his balls, whole body thrumming with just how immensely he approves.

It’s precisely as she said: _oh yes_.

“Now is not about me though,” Moana withdraws her hand (he might just make a noise of potentially inconsolable loss), “Let me see to you first.”

“More than happy for you to see to yourself if that’s what you’re doing,” Damn it, he sounds hoarse.

“I’ll bear that in mind,” There’s rich promise in her voice (okay, so he might manage to survive). Moana unwinds the lavalava from around her waist one-handedly, tugging it off and setting it aside much as she did earlier.

Maui avails himself of the view, eyes descending to sneak a peek at what he can see of her labia (gods how he wants to open her up again; take another good look at everything there; have another good lick). Moana awards him that amused, appreciative look he’s come to relish.

“Open up for me?” she nudges his knees, crawling between them when he complies.

“Hnngh…” It’s a fairly incoherent noise and Maui doesn’t intend to make it. He feels –

Well.

He would never describe himself as vulnerable. But to be spread out like this in front of Moana; to do for her precisely what he was just thinking about _her_ doing for _him_ …

It has his cock jerking, that’s for sure. The foreskin’s receded to reveal the glans, a bubble of precum welling at the slit. The length of his shaft prickles where she’s holding it, swollen and tight with heat.

“Lift your hips a bit higher?” Moana’s running her gaze over the goods much as if she’s mentally cataloguing the required steps to proceed.

“You’re sure,” Maui doesn’t insult her by making it a question; it’s clear what’s she’s intending and she’s said enough times by now she’s all right with it. So here they go. “Might need you to, uh –”

“’Fishhook’?” Moana supplies.

And as much as Maui’s pride might object and stridently claim he doesn’t (never has and never will) need a safeword, it _is_ a handy way to warn her if his control does start to slip. Providing he can get the words out in time, that is. He consciously slows his speed down a lot with mortals in general. Not quite so much with Moana specifically, but still.

But still.

“Mm yeah. That,” Confirming this is kind of embarrassing but necessary. It goes without saying but, “Don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

“I don’t want you to hold back,” Moana frowns. She retraces the line she drew on his thigh, “You won’t hurt me.”

"I –" The terrible truth is that he so easily could. The admission is winched out of him, "Wish I could promise that."

And he always holds back, doesn't he. He always always always has to hold back.

“Right, let me show you something a moment,” Perching on her heels, Moana tips forwards to press a kiss against his hip, her hand on his cock slipping off it and away. It strains towards her face, delightfully tickled by her hair, the head endeavouring to brush at her cheek. She gives it a kiss similarly (Maui gulps) and a grin, then runs both hands down one of his legs to his foot. This is –

Not what he expected. He raises an eyebrow.

“I like your feet,” Moana laughs when he consequently wiggles his toes, “Remember that list of all the things I like about you? They’re high up on it.” She presses against the ball of his heel before smoothing firmly towards centre of his sole, watching his face, “Harder?”

“Mm,” Maui’s leg twitches (not just his leg. Imagining her pressing harder _somewhere else_ ), “Think they’re cute as well, huh?”

“I think your feet are very cute,” Moana agrees.

He rolls his eyes, maybe secretly a tiny bit pleased, “And yeah, harder. If you will.”

“There’s got to be quite a lot of pressure for you to really feel it sometimes, hasn’t there,” Moana does as requested, pushing up and in until he gasps. His feet haven’t had that much attention paid to them in the past if he recalls correctly (he does) and it’s remarkably relaxing to have her knead at one, drawing out aches Maui didn’t know were there, his attention focusing on this in place of his previous thoughts. Once Moana feels the tension he's been repressing ease and fade, she switches to his other foot, paying it the same attention.

Now this is a talent he never suspected she had.

“But I don’t think that pressure is always required though, is it,” Moana then very lightly and deliberately grazes his now hypersensitive sole.

“Gah!” The noise of surprise is lamentably close to a squeak. If this were literally anyone else, Maui would kick them in the face.

“Ticklish?” Her enquiry is impish.

“You know it is,” he splutters, descending into grumbling at her antics as if he’s not broadly grinning (she startled him enough he almost _came_ , damn it), and –

And he gets it.

“All right, all right,” Maui’s tempted to wrinkle _his_ nose at her, “Made your point.”

“I have, haven’t I,” Moana grins in self-satisfaction, “You see, we can do it. You’ll be fine - we both will be. You didn’t even need to ‘fishhook’.”

“Yeah yeah,” he refrains from pointing out that this isn’t a verb. His response is mostly breath as it is, not in the least because she’s taking hold of a foot again, her fingers wrapping around his ankle, “When’d you get so good at that anyway?”

Moana pauses momentarily as if caught off guard. Maui catches another glimpse of that intriguing, uncharacteristic not quite shyness.

“Be careful or I’ll get used to you complimenting me,” she covers the reaction with a smirk, although he clearly senses she’s pleased. But then her mouth tilts into momentary wistfulness, “I learned years ago, back before we even met, in order to help my gramma relax after being on her feet all day.”

“Hope you’re not implying I’m old,” he offers as a distraction in case it’s wanted.

“You’re not ‘old’,” Moana shakes herself, taking the bait just as readily she grasps his other ankle, “You’re really really really really _really_ old. Even if you don’t act like it.”

“Yeah thanks,” he snorts.

“Anytime,” she chirps. Guides him into further widening his legs, “Is this okay? Still comfortable?”

“Uh-huh,” Maui startles a bit when Moana ducks down, angling herself so she can kiss his knee.

“Good,” her mouth drifts upwards, lips parting to taste a tattoo.

“Moana,” he’s fidgeting by the time she reaches the crease of his thigh, sensation attempting to propel him into greater movement.

“Good?” she nips the sensitive skin next to his balls.

Maui certainly doesn’t repeat his yelp.

“Yeah, passable,” he crushes a shudder, strands of her hair sweeping over his dick until she scoops them over her shoulders, pausing to twist and loop them up into a quick topknot.

“I think it’s more than ‘passable’,” Moana pointedly eyes the precum leaking from his cock onto his belly.

“I guess, maybe,” Maui grants with utterly false reluctance, “If you want to tell yourself that.”

“I do,” Moana braces both hands on his thighs, holding them open to make room for her.

Then she bows her head.

“Oh _gods_ ,” To say Maui’s hips attempt to buck in anticipation is an understatement. Thankfully she leans back in time to avoid impact, giving his cock a teasingly admonishing poke (he jolts).

“You nearly had my eye out there,” Moana cheerfully observes, wholly unperturbed by the near miss, “Can you imagine me trying to explain that bruise?” She puts on her ‘chief’ voice, “‘It’s all right everyone; don’t be concerned. Our favourite demigod just got me unintentionally in the face with his dick.‘”

“Moana,” Maui’s chuckling despite himself (her impressions of herself as chief – alongside her talking about his dick – might be rapidly becoming one of his favourite things. That is, one of his many favourites. Maybe he should start his own list). Sure she might be exaggerating, but even so - “Seriously, _don’t_ want to hurt you. Doing so unintentionally doesn’t make it okay.”

“You _won’t hurt me_ ,” Moana insists, “I know you won’t. But was it too much?”

“No way!” Maui’s reply is immediate. He exhales gustily, “Just – be careful, okay?” Because he might have stopped himself then like he did with that tickle, but he's already got far less control than he did yesterday; than earlier today.

“I will.” This time Moana lowers herself down more slowly, giving him time to process the movement. Time to really feel it as she licks the glans, keeping her hands out of it. Using only her tongue and her lips, gradually working the head of his dick into her mouth.

“Uhhh,” Maui concentrates on breathing, opening and closing the hand under his head fruitlessly, trying not to pull at his curls, fighting not to push up into her mouth. Because oh gods oh gods oh gods, if he thought her mouth on him yesterday was incredible –

“Still passable?” Moana pulls back to enquire.

“ _Yes_ ,” That emerges exactly as eager as he feels, “More than.” He still has to tease, “I’d go so far as to say ‘pretty good’.”

He’d go so far as to say much more than that.

“I suppose I might as well carry on then,” Moana draws him back in. She investigates the underside of the glans with her tongue, rubbing it, easing that bit more of him in. He can feel the way her jaw parts to make way for him, her exhalations gusting down the length of his shaft as she starts breathing more heavily through her nose. The tip of his cock presses against the roof of her mouth, her throat working as she attempts to swallow.

Maui’s dick chooses this moment to gleefully dive in and bump the back of her throat.

“Ack –” Moana gags.

“ _Crap_ ,” he hastily pulls out (for her sake, if also due to the alarming risk of _teeth_ ), “Sorry, sorry.”

“Ugh,” she wipes saliva off her chin, “No, I'm sorry too. I was hoping to avoid that happening.” She gives him an arch look, “There really is absolutely nothing ‘teeny tiny’ about what I’m attempting to fit in my mouth.”

“I’m aware of that,” Aiming for contrition rather than smugness and mostly succeeding, Maui swipes the back of his hand over his face, gathering himself. However desperately he wants her to continue he has to check, “Want to stop?”

“No way!” Moana replies just as quickly as he did. She hoists a disbelieving eyebrow, “Do you?”

He gives her a deadpan stare in return, “Think I’m going to say yes to that?”

“ _No_ ,” Moana snickers, “Let me try something?”

“Sure,” he’s not about to object.

“Tell me if this is okay,” Changing position so she’s half lying down, Moana props her elbow against his hip, leaning her arm on him, wrapping her hand promisingly around the base of his dick. This leaves her other hand free to stroke the inside of his thigh.

“Not got any complaints,” That’s for sure.

“Glad to hear it,” Moana eyes his dick like a challenge she’s more than ready to meet. She licks her lips and then the crown, lapping up precum, pulling a thoughtful face, “I still think it’s an acquired taste. But I seem to be getting used to it.”

“Y-yeah?” he can’t manage anything else.

“Yes,” Moana goes back down with determination. When Maui has to suppress another thrust, he’s helped by the gentle warning squeeze of her hand around his shaft. Which feels –

Really damned good actually.

“Okay?” Moana asks around her mouthful. It’s more of a hum than a word, bursting right against his cock.

Maui’s garbled confirmation makes up in enthusiasm what it lacks in clarity.

“Mm-hm,” Moana says agreeably in place of a nod.

“Ahh, keep talking,” The plea bursts out of him. Because fuck – the _vibration_ –

“Mm?” She’s at her most guileless, “Mm mm mm?”

Given that she also presses meaningfully against his thigh, Maui interprets this as a suggestion to push.

“You want me to –?” he lets himself rock very carefully into Moana’s mouth, testing, relieved when she moves to allow for it.

She confirms this with another hum, making him twitch appreciatively.

“O-okay,” he repeats the movement – and again with less restraint when she grins in encouragement around his dick. His breath coming faster, tension building in his limbs; Moana’s hand guiding him into stopping each time before he can thrust too deep. She’s gauging his reactions, sucking at the head of his cock. Flicking at it experimentally with her tongue and then again with more confidence when he hisses in approval.

It only gets better when she tightens the clasp of her hand around his shaft, pushing down when he pushes up into it, matching his movements.

“ _That’s_ – Moana, I’m –” Orgasm is looming fast on the horizon, “Need to – ah. Better pull out.”

“Nn-nn,” Moana’s tiny headshake and intonation combined with her pointed look make her meaning unmistakable. She wants him to –? Really?

Okay, Maui has to absolutely make sure of this.

“You want me to – to come in your – in your mouth?” Even saying it ramps his arousal up that much higher. Still he well remembers her requesting otherwise previously, “ _Sure_ you’re all right with that? Don’t – Really don’t have to.”

There’s no uncertainty in Moana’s smirk as she sucks harder at his cock (Maui all but yells). Grinning, she then pulls off, working her jaw from side to side even as her hand remains moving on him.

“You waited and waited for me yesterday,” she reminds him (and damn it, her voice is husky. This is way more appealing than it should be), “Then you waited again for me today. I don’t want you to wait any longer. I know you don’t have to come in my mouth; I _want_ you to.”

She resumes her previous activity.

“Will do that then,” Maui’s reply is faint, the brief rush of cooler air on his cock as shocking as the renewed warmth of her mouth, a groan rumbling helplessly in his chest. His feet shift, stomach muscles flexing as the need to come gains momentum, “Got to warn you though – could, ah, could be a lot.”

A considering glimmer in her eyes (no doubt remembering how much spunk he produced yesterday), Moana nonchalantly shrugs. Her hand stirs on his thigh, moving between his spread legs to caress his balls before descending to his perineum. 

“Ah _gods,_ damn it –” Maui surges into the feel of it, involuntarily hard and fast. He has no chance of producing ‘fishhook’; his mind in that instant unable to do anything further than panic –

But his body stops before he can do any damage, instinctively responding to Moana bracing her elbow against his abdomen. It shouldn’t be anywhere near enough to halt the unconscious movement, to hand him back the lost control, but it does.

She does.

Moana's right (of course she's right). They _can_ do this.

“Mm?” Her face shining with a combination of saliva, precum and pride, she gives him her smuggest smirk, her lips stretched around his cock. It makes quite a picture. She glides her fingers against his perineum once more and then again, and then lower to –

“Uhhhhhhh,” Maui has no chance whatsoever of stifling the moan. He also can’t edit his “ _Ohhh fuck_.”

He tilts his hips up even further, parts his legs as far as he can to provide her with full access.

“Go on,” Moana instructs with her mouth full (he’s too gone to pretend to chide her for it).

She doesn’t suck – just lets him push up over her tongue, squeezes his dick in the rhythm they’ve established when he pulls back, flicking her tongue against the slit, fingers circling the rim of his asshole.

And somehow it's –

It's easy.

Something buried infinitely deep inside Maui is shaking with just how easy it is. At the revelation of being able to relax that ceaseless grip on his strength; countless centuries of self–restraint. At being able to just – fall into this.

Moana trusts him and he trusts her; she loves him and he –

He _loves_ her.

In this moment Maui would even say that he – that he –

Well.

“Ah darling,” He discovers he’s bracing his feet on the floor, rolling his hips, swivelling them in the need to rock as far as Moana will let him into her mouth, attempting to drive himself both into her fist and down onto her fingers, “Good, so good, yeah, just like that –”

Unable to stop himself, but confident Moana will stop him if needed – that she’ll be able to stop him; that his body will listen and react in time.

Unable to stop himself, but finally – _finally_ – trusting that this is all right.

“Mm,” Moana’s still looking decidedly smug, if increasingly flushed in the face.                                          

It catches up to Maui what he’s just called her again, her waggling brow clueing him in. He huffs out a laugh. Has to raise his head up off his arm and crane his neck, reach down to touch her, smoothing that eyebrow back into place. He brushes her temple, draws a line down her nose to touch her mouth, avidly drinking in the sight:

Of his fingers on her lips taut around his cock – his cock sliding in over her tongue – her hand pumping his shaft –

Of what he can see of her; her face and her neck and shoulders and breasts –

Moana’s other fingers are pressing resolutely against his hole. She isn’t trying to penetrate him, not yet, but there’s the possibility of it, the promise, and it’s –

‘Pretty good’ doesn’t begin to cover it. Even ‘awesome’ only comes close to doing all of this justice.

Maui drags in a shivering breath.

“Darling,” he says it fully intentionally for the first time. Tastes the word alongside his impending orgasm. He informs her politely, “Darling, going to come in your mouth.”

“Mm-hm,” Moana affirms, a cheeky cast to her face. She gives him a long, slurping, filthy suck, her tongue lingering against the vein.

“Ah – _fffff_ –” _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –_ Maui feels his cock surge, his balls spasm, feels himself start to spill.

The orgasm isn’t as shatteringly overwhelming as it was last night. Instead it’s infinitely _better_.

“Mmph,” Moana copes with the spunk initially, but then she chokes. She flails for a second before recovering, popping his dick out of her mouth and holding it against his belly so Maui finishes ejaculating in thick ribbons over his chest. She doesn’t let up with her other hand throughout this, spreading her fingers just a little against his asshole, pushing them gently but firmly against the rim, coaxing an embarrassingly high pitched noise of pleasure out of him along with a last shiver of orgasm and spurt of come.

And that’s –

It’s not even the best orgasm in the last thousand and a bit years. Right now it feels like a game contender for the best orgasm of his _life_.

“Can I keep going?” Moana’s eyeing his cock when he comes back to himself. It’s not deflated yet, but nor is it up to more than a twitch in response to her interest. She hasn’t withdrawn her fingers from lower down but is thankfully no longer moving them, “Or do you need a while to recover?”

Yeah, much as Maui might like her to investigate certain parts of him further, after coming so hard he’s going to need a bit of a break. He also would very much like to investigate _certain parts_ of Moana as well.

“Maybe… give me a couple of minutes?” Honestly it’s going to be longer than that. But there are things he’d absolutely love to do in the meantime. He allows his gaze to run over Moana’s body when she pulls back. She quirks a grin at him in acknowledgement before sending a quick pout down at her hand and his chest before turning away, leaning over to one side to fish for the basket that contained their lunch.

“Here,” Moana produces a folded cloth from the bottom of it, wiping her fingers before tossing it at him (this might be a rare occasion when Maui conspicuously fails to catch), “You can thank my mum later for providing it.” She next unearths a small lidded pot, “You can thank her for this as well. I didn’t want to presume, but I _did_ want to be prepared just in case, so I asked her this morning if she could make us something to help with any chafing.” She smirks, “Although I think she might have guessed the real reason. That was a conversation I never expected to have with my mother.”

“Moana, you –” Halfway through cleaning himself up, Maui has to pause to take this in. His dick valiantly attempts to show its gratitude.

There really are no words for it.

“I told you it wouldn’t be my turn for some time,” she reminds him. Her smirk melts into the sweetest of smiles, “I don’t know that I’ll ever be finished with you.”

There’s something almost tentative, something painfully honest behind her teasing tone. _And that’s_ –

“Come here,” Tossing the cloth aside, Maui makes grabby hands, “Come here, come here; come where I can reach you.” It makes her laugh.

“All right,” Moana doesn’t stand and step out from between his legs as expected. Instead she gives him a look brimming with all the best kinds of trouble, places a hand on his side and a knee on his hip, lifts herself on board and proceeds to crawl _up_.

 

 

_A/N:_

_Please check out these gorgeous pictures inspired by this fic by the very talented Zabchan:_

_http://zabchansketchbook.tumblr.com/post/173349505285/phone-sketch-sleepy-moana_

_http://zabchansketchbook.tumblr.com/post/173363590265/just-a-lil-phone-sketch-inspired-by_

_Aren't they just absolutely beautiful? Thank you so much, Zabchan :)_


	12. Chapter 12

 

“Hey,” Moana crawls up on top of Maui until they’re nearly face to face. Bracing her weight on one arm, she pokes his nose, “So you’re looking rather pleased with yourself. I take it you enjoyed that?”

However he might try to lessen it, the massive grin on Maui’s face seems determined to stay. Ultimately he sees no reason not to go with it.

“You think?” he therefore doesn’t keep his tone from broadcasting the exact same thing as his expression: just how extremely pleased he indeed is, “That was –” There really is no sufficient adjective to sum up the experience, “That _was_.”

“I can make some suggestions about what it was if you like,” Moana's looking rather pleased with herself too, “But that seems to be a compliment as it is.”

“Uh- _huh_ ,” Maui’s not about to pretend otherwise. Credit where it’s due – and she deserves a whole lot of that, “Haven’t come like that in –” He flaps a hand to indicate (possibly ever) millennia.

“I’m guessing a while,” Curiosity births on her face, “It was better for you than last night?”

“Um…” This is a question he’s not sure he should answer however obvious it might be.

“It _was_ better for you,” she says for him with certainty, “And I’m glad for it. Because you seemed to like it yesterday…”

“I really did,” Maui's not about to let her get the wrong impression.

“But you were holding back,” she brushes a couple of stray curls off his forehead, “And I'm sure you _weren’t_ just now, at least not at the end. Those expressions you were making… I’ve never seen you look like that.”

She’s running her gaze across his face avidly as if remembering. A warm curl of arousal mixed with a tinge of embarrassment licks in Maui’s belly. He generally tries to avoid making faces during sex, but – yeah. The more into it he gets, the more his face tends to do whatever it wants. And needless to say he’d been very, very into it this time around.

“They were quite inspiring,” To his relief everything about Moana is indicating she thoroughly approves.

“They were, huh?” Maui can’t hide his interest in the implication, just as he can’t keep himself from noticing the redness of her swollen lips; can’t stop thinking that she must still be able to taste him in her mouth. He soothes his thumb over her lower lip, “Doing all that for me was all right, yeah? You’d have stopped me, wouldn’t you, if it got too much.” Especially at the end when he’d lost control.

The thought that Moana would have been _able_ to stop him – no matter what state he was in – remains so stunningly reassuring.

But he’d still like to have it confirmed.

“Was it ’all right’?” There’s perhaps some gratitude hiding beneath Moana’s smirk; appreciation he’s asking. She turns her head to chase after his fingers, nipping at one, trapping it gently between her teeth, “Yes, I suppose it was ‘kind of’ all right.”

“Guess I deserve that,” Maui can only chuckle. He dips the pad of his finger against the tip of her tongue; thinks about sliding it in. This makes him think of sliding it in _somewhere else_. He hasn’t done enough of that today, has he; only right at the end earlier, when he made her come. And thinking about making her come – His dick stirs to indicate its interest.

“I can tell you what I 'kind of' enjoyed about it if you like,” Moana licks at his finger before releasing it.

“Go for it,” he’s hardly going to say no.

“ _Well_ ,” She gets herself comfortable, lying flat on top of him without ceremony. Her body pressing against his; the softness of her breasts against his chest superbly contrasted by the twin points of her hard nipples. Maui simply has to glance down at the feel of them, striving to keep his expression from turning smug.

She’s not exactly unmoved by what she did for him, is she. This too is great to have confirmed.

“Here are some of the things I 'kind of' enjoyed most,” Moana props her chin on her hands, kicking her feet up in the air, “I kind of enjoyed making you squirm." Playful mischief fills her voice, "No wait, I enjoyed that a lot.”

“Didn't _squirm_ ," Maui automatically refutes.

"You definitely squirmed," Moana counters, matter of fact, “I also enjoyed the way you seemed so surprised by everything I was doing to you, like you couldn’t quite believe it was true. I enjoyed the way you were leaking all over yourself in anticipation. How you couldn’t stop moaning when I sucked you. How your thighs shook when I touched you lower, _down there_ – your hands too."

“Uh – Uh-huh,” Maui’s ears aren't burning, thank you very much.

“Tell me if I go too far,” Moana pauses to untuck her hand from under her chin to brush her fingers across his cheek, feeling the – the total _lack_ of heat there, of course. Surprise swiftly followed by glee floods her expression, “Maui, you’re blushing. I’m actually making you blush.”

“Whaaat? No way, course you’re not,” Maui tosses his head dismissively the best he can while lying down and without dislodging her, “The Great Maui never blushes –” The look she gives him puts a stop to this assertion (because he does and he is and he knows it). He clears his throat, “Anyway, not going too far; feel free to carry on. You know, talking about me.”

As intended the unsubtle prompting makes her laugh.                   

“All right, I will,” she returns to her previous topic, “You really liked what I did for you, didn’t you. As in, you _really_ liked it. You really liked me touching you _down there_.”

His dick certainly agrees with her repetition of that adverb.

“You could say that,” It wouldn't be convincing if he tried to argue the point. Maui says offhand, like it’s unimportant, “Really like a lot of the things you do.”

Startled pleasure fills Moana’s face, “I’m pretty keen on the things you do too.”

“Only ‘pretty keen’, huh?” Maui’s one hundred percent certain she's more than that.

“Do you want me to continue the story or to check if I have stronger feelings than that?” Moana asks.

Now that’s a conundrum. “Both?”

“Story first then,” For all her tone is bright with amusement and her pose relaxed, she’s watching him intently, “Where was I? Oh yes, I was talking about putting my fingers inside you. I didn’t quite manage that, did I. But if you hadn’t been so close to coming, I would have done. I would have slid them inside you like you did for me, one by one. Opened you up slowly, taking my time over it, drawing it out. Watching your face to see what you made of it.”

Maui’s face is currently implying exactly what he might have made of it.

“You’d have enjoyed that, huh?” Given Moana can feel his every reaction, he forcibly represses the urge to – fine yes, all right: the urge to squirm. Because even just hearing her talk about it –

“I think it would have been particularly inspiring,” she nods, “I’m right, aren’t I, that if I had my fingers deep inside you like that and then I took you back in my mouth, I’d get to _really_ see you writhe.”

_Oh gods_.

“You – ah. You're not wrong about that,” His dick is ardently attempting to show its enthusiasm.

“I can feel as much,” Wickedness shades Moana's smirk.

“I'm aware of that,” It’s perhaps unsurprising his refractory period might well prove unusually short. Regrettably however the rest of Maui's body could still do with a smidgen more time to recover, “Not to change the subject but –”

“You're totally changing the subject,” her smirk intensifies, softened by the spark of empathy in her eyes, “But go on.”

"Been kind of wondering,” Even if Maui doesn’t want to, he still ought to ask - especially if he wants to put his plan into action at some point. Should have asked earlier really, “You sure it’s okay me stealing you like this for so long? Don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“You stealing me would be worth any trouble I might get into,” Moana says so nonchalantly he can’t tell if she’s joking. She puts on her ‘chief’ voice, “But fear not: during this morning’s meeting I told the council I’m taking the rest of today off.”

That’s a first.

“You did?” Maui doesn’t bother to conceal his approval. To his knowledge it's become more and more rare for Moana to place herself ahead of even her smallest duties, unless he’s gone to some lengths to convince her. The thought that she’s doing so of her own accord in order to have sex with him –

The thought that she’s doing so _because of him_ –

“I did,” Moana affirms, “I told them I’m taking tomorrow off too.”

“You – what?” Maui’s honestly kind of astonished. He has to repress a jubilant whoop, “You did? You are?”

“I did and I am,” she bumps his chin with her knuckles, “I’m not letting you get away from me now I’ve got you.”

There are several ways in which he would very much like to interpret _that_ comment.

“Yeah?” Maui refrains from pointing out that he doesn’t _want_ to get away, “Bet the council threw a fit.” He’s been aware from the start of everything last night how likely it is he’ll be back to getting disapproving looks when he emerges from this little hut. Maybe even more than just looks.

This is something they probably should talk about at some point rather than just skirting around.

Yeah, later.

“My declaration did cause some disruption before they were forced to accept my mind was made up,” Moana’s thankfully unaware of his thoughts “I will have to resume my duties the day after tomorrow though. But I’ll make sure I’m not _just_ working. I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

This last part makes Maui’s stupid heart feel like it cracks open in his chest.

“Course you do,” he can’t resist teasing, adamantly keeping his reaction off his face. Says as if it doesn’t mean anything, “And you know, same here.”

The admission makes Moana’s eyes widen. Her smile is even wider, “You mean that, don’t you.”

There is no response he can possibly make to this other than a drawled “ _Nah_.”

This time she knows better than to believe him.

“Hey!” her objection rings with mirth.

“Hey yourself,” he nudges her before she can scold him, “Joking aside, you got to know I appreciate it. You taking time off –” _for me_ “– like this. Anything I can help you out with once you’re back to being boss, just say the word. Happy to pitch in.”

He means it. Not because of the possibility of further sex with her (or at least mostly not because of it). If he’s going to be staying with Moana and her people – unless the gods have an urgent need for him – it’s only right he make an effort.

And if it frees her up all the sooner for him to steal her again, that’s a definite plus.

“Everyone would appreciate it,” Moana’s beaming, “ _I’d_ appreciate it. But you don’t have to. I trust you know there are no conditions when it comes to you staying here, none at all.”

“Know I don’t have to,” Maui’s conscious that although he’s done the odd job whenever required – increasingly often voluntarily – the past couple of times he paid Moana and her tribespeople a visit, this isn’t an offer he’s previously explicitly made, “Come on, must be something round here that requires the unparalleled skills of a demigod.”

“I’m sure we can find some heavy lifting or the like for you to do,” Moana grins. She adds lightly, “Or else if you could bring yourself to indulge some admirers, my mum would probably suggest you help look after the little ones. They’d love your stories and singing.” Her following pause implies she’s remembering the song he claimed he’d write about their activities last night – that he’s in the process of composing – as does her caveat, “Depending on the song.”

“Hey, I can be age appropriate,” It’s Maui’s turn to protest (this new song may be highly _inappropriate_ , but it’s only intended for an audience of one).

“You can?” Moana’s eyebrows rise in exaggerated disbelief.

“Sure I can,” he’s laughing despite himself.

And yes, there’s the chance Maui might have been cultivating a gaggle of miniature fans yesterday during dinner. He’s not the slightest bit surprised this didn’t escape Sina’s notice – or her daughter’s.

“I’ll let my mum know then, if you like,” Moana offers.

“That doesn’t sound terrible,” Maui makes his shrug indifferent.

In truth it doesn’t sound terrible at all.

Because damn it, it’s not something his ego wants him to admit, but given the option it’s the task he’d choose first. Little kids can be messed up screwballs who do all sorts of hare-brained, unpredictable things (Moana might have some sort of observation to put in here about him being on a similar level). They're simply – fun to be around. It helps of course that it takes very little to impress them.

(And it _hurts_ that he can’t –)

(And Moana knows this, hence her care in asking).

And –

And _anyway_. High time for another change of subject.

“So,” Maui smooths his hand down from Moana’s shoulders to the small of her back, “As I’ve got you for another day and a half… we should probably make the most of your free time.”

“I’m intending to,” Insinuation colours her smile as she moves into the touch.

His palm grazes the swell of her ass, “Still okay with me touching you here?”

“I’m more than okay with it,” There’s no hesitance in Moana’s reply, “I like it. I just wasn’t sure I liked – more than that.”

“Fair enough,” Maui gets the distinction. Has to take a measured breath in when she arches, pushing her backside up so it’s snug against his palm.

“There _is_ somewhere else I’m okay with you touching as well,” she hints.

“There is? Can’t think where,” Concealing a grin, he trips his fingers down over her ass and in between the crux of her thighs to tickle her sex.

Moana muffles a squeak, “That was revenge, wasn’t it.”

“Whatever for?” Maui’s the definition of innocence.

“Somehow I don’t imagine you’ve forgotten,” she shifts her legs to give him more room. It’s not an ideal position for ease of access, but he can feel the slickness of her lingering arousal, can run his fingers through it and over the folds of her labia; watch her mouth loosen as she tries not to react.

“Maybe I’m starting to remember,” Delving down deeper between her legs to locate her clit, he gives it a cheeky tickle as well.

“ _M-Maui_ ,” Moana’s whole body reacts, her stomach convulsing, breath escaping her in a half gasp, half snort of laughter. Maui takes in the darkness of her eyes, the line of heat unfurling across her cheekbones.

“Want to know the things I enjoy doing to you?” he asks impulsively.

After all the things he enjoys _about_ her are really too many to list.

“I think I can guess some of them,” Moana looks a combination of amused, conflicted and aroused, “I did say earlier that it isn’t my turn yet. Although I’m open to the possibility of you changing my mind, if that’s what you want to do.” Adjusting her knees and raising her hips, she parts her legs as far as she can while lying on top of him, as if to indicate just how open she is, “I have the feeling you might succeed.”

“Let me know what you decide,” Maui takes the opportunity to reunite his finger with her opening, slipping it in.

Yes, he definitely didn’t do enough of this earlier. He’d better make up for it now.

“Oh –” Moana drags in a breath, “ _Yes_. I’ll let you know.” She awards him her ‘ready’ face, “Okay then, tell me. All those things you like doing to me.”

Maui has to take a moment before he can answer. Needing just to revel for a second in what he’s _currently_ doing to her and what he’s _going_ to do. Moana’s been waiting for him, hasn’t she; waiting for him like he waited for her yesterday and this morning –

The thought makes words spill out of him unedited.

“Quite fond of making you come,” he informs her, “No ‘kind of’ about it.”

“I’m quite fond of you doing that too,” Moana smirks.

“I also enjoy doing _this_ –” Grinning, he wiggles his finger inside her, “And this –” a firm rub of her clit (she jerks), “And this –” he brings his other hand down to joyfully squeeze her ass.

And that’s just the start of it.

“I knew you were going to say that last one,” Moana’s smug reply is noticeably breathless, “All right if I –?” She’s pushing up on her knees, shifting up higher on top of him.

“Very all right,” Maui takes the opportunity to withdraw his finger, savouring the disappointed noise this causes her to make.

“Oh no, don’t stop,” her sex grasps for him as if trying to keep it inside. Her hair is starting to escape from its topknot, long strands falling down around them.

Her mouth is very close.

It feels incredibly intimate somehow, strangely more so than everything they’ve got up to before. Looking up at her like this, seeing every nuance of her expression while Moana sees his.

Maui’s not thinking about kissing her, nope. Not thinking about how it feels different; not thinking that this is because –

Because it means something now, doesn't it.

(He squashes the little voice inside him seeking to point out that it’s damn well meant something all along).

“Why would I want to _stop_?” It’s not the most convenient of positions, reaching down and around behind her like this, but he can endure the hardship. He tries a different finger, "This okay?"

“ _Yes_. Are you trying to decide which one you like in there best?” Moana enquires when he repeats the experiment with a third, giving her internal walls as thorough a rub as he can reach.

“Hmm, which do you think?” That’s the more important question given that his answer is _any_ and – if only it were possible – _all_.

Moana rocks back onto the finger currently inside her, the soft warmth of her folds kissing his knuckles, “I think I need more information before I can make a decision about that.”

“Need to refresh your memory, huh?” – “I do” – Maui’s tempted to try all three fingers together just to see her reaction, just to see how tight she is today and what it’s like compared to yesterday.

But however eagerly she’s reacting and however easier it seems like attempting such a thing might be, ‘seems like’ is far from a certainty. He hasn’t forgotten all the work it took last night for her to manage that many and he’s still not going to risk hurting her. That's never going to change.

So instead he introduces her to his thumb.

“Maui –” Moana’s face crumples wonderfully when he gives it an investigational twirl. He’s being less careful than when he fingered her previously, less restrained; can feel her reacting to it – her quiet moans, the wetness trickling down onto his hand.

“Good?” he checks all the same, just in case.

“It’s passable,” Moana pushes into it as he massages the pad of his thumb against the back of her internal walls. She laughs at the mock-offended eyebrow he gives her, “I’d go so far as to say pretty good.”

“Guess I deserve that as well,” Maui has to concede.

“You do deserve it,” Moana sunnily agrees.

“Heh,” he doesn’t let up with his administrations, popping his thumb out of her only to rest two fingers against her entrance, easing them in, “This okay?”

“ _Yes_ , but I think we could make it better,” Moana purses her lips, “It’s not the best angle for manoeuvrability, is it. Let me sit up.” Bidding a temporary farewell to her sex, Maui removes his hand so she can rise up onto her knees, straddling him. She contemplates this development, “Do you want to sit up as well?”

“Happy either way,” This is a view he’s never going to tire of. But it’s also appealing to have her take charge, considerably more than he’s going to let on, “What you thinking of?”

“How about this –” she wraps one hand around Maui’s wrist, closes the other hand over his shoulder and then leans back, encouraging him to follow until they’re sitting on the floor facing each other, Moana bracketed by his feet. She grins at his erection, giving it an affectionate pat on the head, “Oh hello. I see you’re back.”

It’s just as happy to see her.

“Can’t tell me you’re surprised,” Really, it’s been ‘back’ for a while.

“Given your idea of ‘soon’, you can’t blame me for wondering if my concept of a couple of minutes differed from yours,” is Moana’s teasing rejoinder. Releasing his dick after a few more pets, she hooks her legs adroitly over his, crooking her knees out to either side. Bracing her heels under his thighs for balance, an arm out behind her to support her weight; leaning back further to tip her hips – and everything else – upwards.

This accomplished, she gives him a satisfied grin, “Okay, how’s this?”

How’s this _indeed_.

Maui doesn’t even try to prevent his gaze from roaming down the length of her body, taking in her face and neck, her breasts and belly and sex, his mouth loosening unconsciously, balls tightening as he absorbs the way she’s opened herself up for him. There’s enough space between them for him to easily lower his hand and caress her folds.

“Mm, not sure yet,” he slides his fingers back into her, “Let me check.”

“I don’t know, you seem to approve,” Moana’s head falls forwards as she watches him do this, her breasts moving with the force of her pants, legs tightening against his as she lifts her pelvis further up into it.

“Reckon I do,” This is a major understatement. Maui inches his fingers in deeper, “Still passable?”

“More than,” Moana breathes, her attention rapt on his hand, “I couldn't see nearly as much the previous times you did this.”

“Better give you something worth watching then,” Maui scissors his fingers before relaxing them, repeating this; eyeing her clit.

It’s looking awfully neglected.

He holds off touching it for the moment purely as for all Moana’s eagerly responding to his ministrations, there’s a minute pout tugging at her lips.

Sure enough she blurts, “Why does it feel so much better when you do this compared to when I try?”

Now _that’s_ a question. Maui has to forcibly suppress his first few initial – likely predictable – responses.

“Because someone else is doing it,” he says after a brief but fierce struggle.

“I think it’s because you’re doing it,” Moana’s laugh is uneven, hitching as he finds that lovely place on the front of her internal walls.

“I, uh – _course_ it is,” Maui would dearly love to believe it; to proclaim long and loud that _of course_ it's because of him personally. But when it comes right down to it, she's not exactly got much experience with other people to compare it to. And presuming she’d feel the same if she did seems patently unfair.

“Can I tell you something?” Moana’s back to giving him one of those considering looks.

“Sure you can,” he crooks his fingers, making her jolt.

“I enjoyed this morning more than last night too,” she confesses, “It was amazing yesterday, like I said earlier. But I knew what to expect today – you know, when you took forever to make me come.” The way she says this makes it far from a complaint. “I knew I would like it and I’d been, well. Hoping for and looking forward to it.”

“Makes a difference, doesn’t it,” Maui says instead of letting on he was already aware of her greater enjoyment.

“ _Yes_ ,” she’s seeking to sound conversational and not quite succeeding, “Do you know, this is – unusual for me.”

Unusual?

“What is?” Maui quirks an eyebrow.

“This,” she strokes the fingers of her free hand over the back of his, through the wetness streaked over his skin, “That there's this much of it. It’s my turn to be leaking. All over your hand.” 

“I noticed,” Entirely pleased, Maui gives his fingers a protracted wriggle inside her – up and down and all around – relishing the sound effects this produces. Moana’s appreciative “o–ohhh” is equally wonderful. Watching her face carefully he checks, “It bother you?”

“Nooo,” Moana says slowly. There’s that gleam in her eye he’s come to recognise, “I like it. I like it a lot.” She bites her lower lip, teeth digging in, “Do you mind?”

Does he _mind_?

“This look like a complaining face to you?” Maui withdraws his fingers in order to lick them clean – and his palm and wrist. Helpfully demonstrating just how very much he’s not complaining.

“I think it looks the opposite of a complaining face,” Moana looks caught between laughter and the desire to grab his hand and return it to his previous position. He reaches out as if to comply, only to simply run a finger over her folds and around her upper thighs, through the traces of her arousal.

“’Cause it _is_ the opposite,” he snorts, “I think it’s awesome. Means we’re getting it right, doesn’t it.”

“Oh yes,” Moana huffs mildly through her nose, “I still don’t want to inflate your head. But when you touch me like this, it feels so –”

“Yeah?” That’s a sentence he’d very much like completed. He sucks on his finger, cleans it likewise, “Can make some suggestions if you like.”

“It’s – indescribable,” she grins, “Yes, that’s a compliment. Very much a compliment. I’m not saying it hasn’t been good in the past when I’ve touched myself. But it hasn’t been as good as this.” Her gaze hones in on his cock, “Do you realise you’re leaking yourself again now?”

“Heh,” Maui glances down at himself. He is, “You start talking about touching yourself, that’s just going to happen.”

“Perhaps I should do so while we talk then,” Moana’s eyes are dark on his, very knowing. Without ado she slips her forefinger inside herself.

_Oh fuck_ –

“Moana,” As much as he might have been hoping for it, Maui didn’t expect her to take him up on the implicit prompt. His dick throbs as he chokes on a strangled gasp, “Darling, that’s – _yes_ –”

He might need to start inventing new adjectives.

“It definitely feels ‘yes’,” Moana assures him, “You wanted to see me do this earlier, didn’t you.”

Yes, yes he really did.

She sighs as she feeds in another finger alongside the first, and then a third. And that’s –

Gods, _how_ he had wanted to see her do this. Can scarcely believe he is now. Maui’s throat works as he has to attempt several times to swallow, a tremor of arousal passing through his limbs.

“Believe me when I say I’ve never been able to do this so quickly or easily before,” Moana’s telling him, “Not with three fingers.” She parts them inside herself, “Look how well you stretched me yesterday and today.”

“I’m looking.” Gazing at her transfixed, more like. He’s possibly also drooling a bit.

A shiver ripples up through her body and into her voice, “Even my own fingers are feeling better than usual. Because of you.”

“Yeah?” However he might sorely like to interpret this, Maui’s sure he knows the actual reason for it: “Because you always had to rush.” And now she knows what it's like not to race through it.

“And I was always afraid of being interrupted,” Moana affirms.

“Not a fun combination, I’m imagining,” he cringes on her behalf.

“Nope,” she says cheerfully, “I, ah, wasn’t very interested in listening to my mum or aunties when I was young, whenever they tried to tell me about masturbation and sex. I tend to generally ignore my cousins’ gossip as well. So at first I didn’t even realise about _this_ –”

She rubs her clit with her thumb in illustration.

Again with the _oh fuck –_

Maui has to wrap his hand around his dick; give it a precautionary squeeze, “I imagine that was quite the discovery.”

He’s inevitably reminded of a time way in the past when a long ago buddy introduced an unsuspecting young demigod to his prostate. Not the time or place to mention it now, but he makes a mental note to tell her sometime – it's quite the anecdote.

“It was a revelation,” Moana enthuses, “But even so… back before yesterday, before you… however turned on my mind was, my body used to take time to catch up. It was only made worse by me trying to hurry it.” Shuddering, she removes her fingers from herself, half grinning and half pouting at her messy hand, “Hence me mentioning ‘this’ being unusual.”

Gods, it’s no wonder she came up with an excuse about chafing on her quest for lubricant.

“My poor darling,” Maui means this sincerely, but it still makes her laugh.

He doesn’t quite let himself notice his use of the possessive determiner.

“I know, the sad and tragic tale of my often unsatisfactory orgasms,” Moana rolls her eyes at herself. She then glances around for the cloth, her pout intensifying on spotting it out of reach.

“It _is_ sad,” he means it, “Remember what I said about you deserving more than failed sex? You deserve better than ‘unsatisfactory’ orgasms as well.” Merely 'satisfactory' isn't good enough either.

Maui’s starting to particularly dislike that word.

“I’d describe the orgasms I've had with you quite differently,” Moana gives him a quick little grin, "Quite differently indeed."

“Glad to hear it,” Needless to say he’d be immensely disappointed otherwise. Maui risks peeling his fingers away from his dick, wondering just how near she was to coming when she stopped herself. He takes the opportunity to adjust himself as subtly as possible (which is not at all), giving his balls a tug before reaching out to catch hold of her hand, “Here, let me.”

He solves her dilemma by licking her fingers clean just as he did his own, paying attention to each sticky digit.

“You manage to get hold of that stuff your mum makes in the past?” It surely would have helped.

“Sometimes but not that often,” Moana says, “I didn’t like to keep asking as I didn’t want to worry her that something was wrong. I suppose I was a little embarrassed.” Her nose wrinkle reappears, “I did try to make it myself at one point, but the end result wasn’t worth repeating.”

Maui keeps himself from chuckling at her expression because potentially – _ouch_.

“Yeah, maybe best not to experiment with putting unfamiliar things in there,” Although that makes him think of all sorts of interesting possibilities, “That is, depending on what they are.”

(Really, thinking of some of his more dubious exploits way back, perhaps that young demigod could have done with similar advice. That is – _nah_ ).

“There are some things I’ve learned I very much like putting ‘in there’,” Moana says with predictable mirth, “One in particular springs to mind that I’d like to get reacquainted with.”

“You would, huh,” he glances down teasingly at her sadly bereft sex, “Can’t imagine what it is.”

“I’m sure you can,” she disagrees.

“Afraid nothing’s occurring to me,” Maui’s perfectly able to project guilelessness even as he changes position, crooking his legs to one side to let him lean in towards her. Placing his first and third finger between her parted folds, he tucks them neatly on either side of her clit, relishing her spasm and gasp.

Yeah, she’s close all right.

Gliding them back and forth like that, he moves the hood of her clit gently over and against it, bringing his middle finger in after a moment to touch it properly, as much of it as he can.

“Mm, Maui that’s –” Twisting into it, Moana throws her other arm behind herself to catch her balance. Maui’s hearing is sharp enough he can hear her heart pounding.

As vastly as he enjoys noises  _lower down_ , this one is possibly his favourite ever sound.

(Regardless of the speed).

“Wait – wait a second, slow down,” Moana blurts after a moment of this.

Maui promptly eases up. Strokes the inside of her thighs, “Don’t want to come?”

“I do, but –” she’s sweating, staving off the orgasm, “But I also don’t; not quite yet. I don’t want to always be ahead of you. I know it’s not a competition, but…”

“So?” Maui can’t see the problem with this, “Meant it when I said I _like_ making you come.” He can’t quantify just how much he likes it. “Besides, after what you did for me? And everything last night? If this was a competition, you’d _win_.”

This makes her both laugh and relax.

“Naturally I would,” Moana teasingly preens, tossing her hair (as some is still in its topknot, the effect isn’t quite as dramatic as usual). The look she darts him afterwards is simultaneously challenging and coloured with that not quite shyness, “You mean that as well, don’t you.”

“Sure I do,” Maui says, as if this latest confession means nothing once again. As if he doesn’t think she wins at pretty much everything.

“I’m not sure I really would win,” Moana’s giving him a sideways look.

“We can check sometime if you like,” Maui smirks, “Anyway come on, tell me what you want.”

“I want –” Something raw enters her expression, “I want you.”

Which is –

(Damn it damn it damn it, if she keeps saying such things he’s going to start to believe it. To believe that she wants _him_ , not just sex with him. And that’s –)

“Yeah, I –” Maui’s not at all tempted to tell her how acutely he wants her as well. So much it’s all he can think of. So much it tangibly aches in his chest and belly and throat; not just his dick and balls.

So much there’s a nagging sensation deep inside him, informing him that he might –

That he might –

Well.

He’s inescapably aware by now that he loves her. This is an indelible fact. But the feeling tugging insistently at Maui is bizarrely as if it’s somehow _more_ than that.

He’s got absolutely no idea what this might mean, of course.

“Want that too,” Shoving said feeling down forcefully, he goes for compromise.

“You agreed ‘later’,” Moana places her hand on his chest over his racing heart. She draws a line down his torso to his cock; touching it with the fingers she used to touch herself, “Can ‘later’ be now?”

“Hell yes,” he leans over to scoop up the little pot, glancing over at her as he weighs it in his palm, “Going to let me use some of this?” If Moana’s okay with it not being used for her intended purpose. Because yes, she’s as wet as he’s ever seen and felt her, but given that critical size difference between them – “Can only help.”

“I should have asked my mum for some last night,” Moana plucks it out of his hand. She pops open the lid, “But that really would have been presumptuous.” She flicks a look up at him as she coats her fingers, “Do you want to know a secret? I didn’t expect you to say yes to my request.”

“What, _why_?” She’d thought he’d _turn down_ the chance to have sex with her?!

“The look on your face,” Moana snickers in place of answering. She wraps her slippery fingers around the base of his cock, drags her hand upwards.

“Ah gods,” Maui has to grit his teeth at how good it is, “My compliments to your mum.”

“You can tell her yourself if you like,” Moana’s very near, her face upturned to his, laughing a little under her breath, “I should warn you you’re going to be in for a grilling after I tell her my edited version of events. She’s going to want details.”

“Won’t say anything you don’t want me to,” This should go without saying.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Moana squints at him, “To an extent. But maybe avoid my dad for a while.”

“Your dad’s, uh –” She did say her parents _didn’t_ disapprove. But still. Maybe Maui doesn’t want to know.

It’s actually quite difficult to have a conversation about her parents while she’s slicking up his cock. However in a sense it also helps, given that he really doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

“He’s going to be so smug,” Moana pulls a face, “Never mind what my parents thought about you back at my inauguration ceremony. You have no idea what they convinced themselves about _me_.”

“Hmm?” This is news to him. Extremely interesting news. Maui takes the pot once she’s done with it, dipping a couple of fingers into the remaining contents. He encourages her to lie down on her side, reclining similarly so they’re facing each other, “Going to tell me?”

“I will. In a bit,” Moana parts her legs when he nudges his fingertips meaningfully against her sex, “Oh that’s nice –” She shivers when he guides them into her – so smoothly, _so_ easily, the lubricant along with her own wetness making it an effortless glide. He probably could get four of them in today, although that’s not his objective now. Between his earlier stretching and her own, there’s not much work left needed to ready her.

But still –

“You know,” Maui’s speaking before he realises it, the fingers of his free hand burying in Moana’s hair as she pulls at him. She’s rolling onto her back, wordlessly demanding he rise up on top of her, “If I could make myself smaller...”

This is a sentence he _never_ thought he would say.

“Mm?” Moana’s distracted, peering down between their bodies as much as she can while they get their legs sorted, but she tilts her head to shoot a look back up at him at this. A knot indents her brow in clear surprise, “Why would you – Do you mean your dick?”

“Yeah, to make it easier for you,” Damn, saying this is awkward. Just as doing it is unfortunately probably not possible. But he wants her to know he’d at least be willing, “But partial shapeshifting, least that specifically, is…”

Not something he can do intentionally (and in this sense, certainly not something he’s ever tried). The prospect is also sort of terrifying if he’s honest.

“Yes, if something went wrong…” Moana’s tone implies she’s imagining precisely that.

Yeah, no thanks.

“Could _really_ be weird,” Maui concurs. He refuses to let hesitance enter his voice (this is something he would never ever ever say to anyone other than Moana), “Probably be better if all of me was smaller, right?”

“ _No_ ,” Moana immediately says. She moves beneath him with intent, “Let me see your face properly?” Adds with a hint of tease, "And if you're not going to do anything now we're ready other than talk: over. On your back. Me on top.”

“Y-yup,” Holding onto her waist to bring her with him, Maui rolls. Wincing inside (he doesn’t feel that odd spark of vulnerability again, not at all). The grin Moana gives him eases the tension he’s refusing to acknowledge.

“I _like_ your size,” she says firmly, “I don’t want you to change. Or to even think you might need to, because of me or otherwise.”  

“Who – who said anything about that?” This denial is lamentably weak. Because he’d never admit it, not even to himself, but -

But ever since that long ago partner described him as ‘overwhelming’, a fervently hidden and furiously ignored part of Maui crushed very deep down inside him has always wondered if –

If he _is_ too big.

You know, generally. Not just that one specific part of him.

“You’re not _that_ much bigger than my dad,” Moana claims before correcting herself, “Well fine, yes you are – but you aren’t particularly taller than him.”

“Am so,” Maui counters breezily. He’s plenty taller than Tui. And everyone else as well.

(Though he might not stand next to the former chief in the near future, just in case).

“You can believe that if you want to,” Amused, Moana arranges herself so she’s kneeling astride him just as she did yesterday, lining his dick up with her sex. She says very seriously, "But believe me too: I like everything about you.”

She does?

Moana clarifies, "Except perhaps your snoring.”

" _Pfft_ , you love my snoring,” Maui has to tease rather than owning up that he (more than) likes everything about her as well - including the little noises she makes in her sleep.

"As I mentioned this morning I do find it invokes a certain sense of nostalgia,” Moana chuckles. She pushes just that bit down on him.

“Moana,” Maui has to prevent his hands tightening on her waist as her folds make way for the head of his cock, feeling it nose into her opening. His breath catches, “Careful; not too fast –”

Because with the added lubricant things are damned slippery and – yeah. Cervix bashing remains a less than pleasant possibility if she decides to shove herself onto him like she did last night.

“I can do this,” Moana states with such certainty he can’t doubt her, “Lie still for a moment; let me.” She’s sinking down on him incrementally, pausing every few seconds, her movements slow and sure, “Trust me.”

“ _Course_ I trust you,” Maui’s an idiot, but – this feels different as well. Different to how it felt when he penetrated her yesterday; different in the same way that kissing her is (which is something he'd very much like to do again at some point).

Different because he _loves_ her and she loves him and he –

Just maybe. Just maybe maybe maybe he's –

Yeah. He’s an idiot.

“I thought about this,” Moana’s working him in deeper, tensing and relaxing her thighs, “It feels even better than I remember. And I - I thought about doing this with you. About doing all sorts of things with you. Before last night. I imagined it.”

_Before_ last night?

“You –” Maui very nearly thrusts up into her in sheer stunned amazement. He snatches back self-control, “You mean that?”

It’s not that he doubts her. It’s just that he can’t believe it.

“If you start moving, I’ll come,” Moana warns, “Yes, I mean it.” She resettles her feet, licks her lips, runs a hand over his chest to tweak his nipple, “I’ve wondered about having sex with you for, oh. Let’s say a couple of years.”

It doesn’t take much for Maui to put the pieces together.

“Your inauguration ceremony,” Realisation, delight and an exceedingly smug grin compete to take over his face.

“Yup,” she says brightly, “I didn't know if I'd like the reality of it, but I _definitely_ liked the idea. Is that odd?”

“Nah, it’s not odd,” It’s pretty understandable given she hadn’t even been able to explore her own body properly and at leisure. And oh, how he likes the thought of her wondering about him and imagining (his smirk deepens).

“I also meant it when I said you were the only person I'd trust as much to show me about sex,” Moana continues, "I hadn't exactly planned to ask you yesterday, but I didn't know if or when I'd ever get another chance. And I knew I wanted to at least try, if you agreed. Was it bad of me not to tell you I'd been thinking about it for some time? Since long before my failed experience with - someone I won't name." She's still moving on him, but her attention's on what she's saying, “Because if I had told you and then we tried and I discovered I _didn't_ like it – or if you didn't – I didn't want to put either of us through that.” She hesitates, "And I was a little concerned telling you might make you more likely to say no.”

“It wasn't bad of you,” Maui's still processing the fact she's spent two years wanting to sleep with him, “Honestly? Reckon it's for the best you didn't say. If you had –” He snorts, "Talk about performance anxiety.”

(He can't consciously admit how devastating it would have been if she'd hated it).

"I won't keep mentally berating myself then," Grinning, Moana noticeably relaxes.

He eyes her, “Still don't know why you reckoned I wouldn’t be up for it, though. Or why you thought telling me might make me say no.”

It’s not as if she'd had to do that much to convince him yesterday, is it. In fact he’d been ‘up for it’ very quickly.

“Because you left,” she answers simply, which is –

Fuck.

He did leave.

“My parents might have thought they saw you looking at me during my inauguration – but my dad in particular was convinced I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” Moana starts to move with more focus, lifts herself up and then back down on his dick; a fantastic roll of her hips, "He was right." Her grin turns lopsided; her dark eyes steady and sincere on his, “I hadn’t seen you for ages and there I was supposed to be all solemn and official on this very important day I’d been anticipating _my whole_ _life,_ and – and all I could think about was how – how _handsome_ you looked and how much I missed you and how much I loved you and – and I couldn't look away.” Breaking off, she gasps and swears, “Going to come.”

“Want to now?” Maui can barely get the question out over the whirlwind of his emotions. Because really? She really felt like that; really thought all that back then? He’d had no idea, not even an inkling; didn’t suspect it whatsoever.

And he damn well went and _left_. Didn’t even speak to her after the ceremony, however much he'd longed to. Barely waited until it was finished before he –

Ran away.

He owes her a huge apology for that, doesn’t he.

“Yes, I want to come now,” Moana grabs for one of his hands so Maui obligingly moves it to her sex. She gets out, “I thought you noticed me staring at you back then and it freaked you out. I thought maybe you were horrified by the idea that I might want you. I was _so_ relieved when you arrived here yesterday and instead seemed just as pleased to see me as I was to see you.” She moans as he fingers her clit, “Come on, touch me, touch me. Now; while you’re looking at me like that.” (Yeah, it’s possible he's sporting quite the expression), “Move, _please_ –”

“Oh, so now you want me to move,” Maui has to pretend-grumble despite everything. Grateful for that orgasm she gave him; grateful it lessens the immediacy of his own arousal enough to allow him to concentrate on her, supporting Moana with the hand he's got still on her waist. Alternating the angle of his first few shallow thrusts until it makes her pant, “Like that?”

He knows the answer but asks it anyway.

“Yes, like that,” Moana’s head falls back, exposing her throat, showing off her breasts very nicely as Maui lifts his free hand to give a nipple an appreciative pinch. Carefully increasing the pressure and speed of his strokes to her clit until she's groaning throatily; similarly judging his thrusts. Fiddling with her nipple, tugging at it just the right amount to make her scrabble approvingly at his hand. Her fingers then clamping down on his wrist just as her sex does on his dick, her impending orgasm starting to tighten her body.

“Want to know a secret?” Maui chooses this moment to lightly ask.

“Uhhh – I – _yes_ ,” Moana has trouble getting the words out, “Yes. Wh–what –?”

He gives her his best grin, careful to not to stop moving, “Back then at your inauguration – I _was_ looking at you. Just couldn’t admit it." Not even to himself. "Didn't realise you were looking at me too.” Damn him, damn it, "Was too busy panicking that you wouldn't thank me for the thoughts I was doing my best to pretend I _wasn't_ having. Freaking out that you'd be freaked out."

"What w-were you thinking?" Moana grinds down against him, "Tell me."

"I was thinking - I _still_ think -" Now Maui's started talking he can't stop, “Got to tell you, Moana, truth is I think you’re _damn fine._ ” This perhaps isn’t the most elegant phrasing. But how he means it, “Not just your body.”

Although that’s the definition of ‘damn fine’ in his opinion.

Maui rocks up into her, presses his thumb against her clit. Words propelled by all the feelings he’s been repressing so hard and so long pouring out of his mouth, “I mean the whole of you, darling. I mean you’re the best person I –” The best person he’s ever met. “You make me –” _better_ “– I want to –” _be with you always_ “– I –”

(I love you _–_ )

“I can’t – I can’t be the best person,” Moana’s reply is faint; her eyes screwing shut. Pleasure and emotion transforming her face, “I can’t be because you are. _Maui_ –”

“It’s all right,” Maui gets out, seeing her faltering, teetering right on the edge, “Darling, it’s all right; I got you –”

( _I love_ _you_ –)

“You have; you have,” Moana grasps his wrist all the tighter, the muscles of her legs locking, her body curling in on itself, “Ohhh. Do you – do you mean all of that?”

“You got me too,” Maui says like a promise; a pledge. Feeling himself smiling, powerless not to confirm, “Yeah, I mean it.” Burrowing his dick just that bit deeper inside her, that bit further than he’s ever gone until the head kisses a very gentle hello to her cervix.

"Oh oh _oh_ -" Her sex ripples around him as it tips her over into orgasm, _“Oh -_ ”

After a long moment Moana slumps against him, struggling to catch her breath, her eyes opening briefly only to once more close. Smiling she murmurs, “I meant it too.”

Speechless, Maui cradles Moana's head in his hand, his thumb grazing her chin. Looking up at her as she takes a moment to recover, nestling her cheek into his palm. Looking at her dark lashes set against the perfect wholeness of her features, the curls of hair tumbled across her forehead, strands clinging to her temples and cheeks. Thinking of how amazing, how precious she is. Fit to bursting with the undeniable knowledge, the realisation that he –

That he doesn’t just love her. That there's the smallest remotest least likely chance that he's –

He’s in love with her.

(Of course he is).

 

 

 

_A/N:_

_Please check out the incredible artwork inspired by this chap by the wonderfully talented Zabchan - so many gorgeous smutty fantastic pics!  
_

_http://zabchansketchbook.tumblr.com/post/174711016575/more-inspired_

_http://zabchansketchbook.tumblr.com/post/174711015175/really-wanted-to-capture-an-expression-of_

_http://zabchansketchbook.tumblr.com/post/174710507410/went-off-my-meds-for-two-days-and-got-a-randomchap_


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much to everyone who commented and left kudos on the previous chapter - massively appreciated. A shoutout again to Zabchan for her gorgeous, inspiring artwork - go look at it! Links are in chaps 11 & 12.
> 
> *Please note* chapter includes a secondary, long ago Maui x male other pairing (not explicit). While the other character (from the film) isn't named, it's been hinted at since chap one and becomes much more obvious this update. Please gloss over it or read it as otherwise if it doesn't appeal :)

 

“Now that,” Moana’s still panting lightly. She opens her eyes to grin broadly down at him, “ _That_ was an orgasm.”

She reaches up to untangle the last remaining strands of her topknot, brushing damp hair out of her face. This is something Maui would like to do for her if he didn’t feel strangely paralysed. He can only watch, determinedly keeping his expression free from any internal conflict he might possibly be having.

“It was, huh?” To his immense relief his voice comes out very nearly normal, just the faintest touch of hoarseness to it, “Certainly looked like one from here.”

He can’t say he has the first idea what to do with this – this _realisation_ he maybe might have had, but the instinctive attempt to deny it doesn’t seem to be working so well. The endeavour not to think about it equally fails.

It’s all he _can_ think about, of course.

Well, in all honesty, that and the current location of his cock.

“Uh- _huh_ ,” Moana’s saying – and it’s more than likely she’ll quickly pick up on something having changed if Maui’s not careful. Never mind if emotion is clenched hard like a fist in his chest or his hands develop the tiniest tremble to them as his body starts to unfreeze. Because that’s neither here nor there, is it.

(Is it?)

He manages to make his tone lightly teasing with the ease of long practice, “Satisfactory?”

Regardless of anything else, her orgasm had _definitely_ been satisfactory to watch.

“It was more than satisfactory,” Moana enthuses, “Much more.” There’s a distinct glimmer of humour – and something else – in her gaze as she continues, “I might go so far as to say it was exemplary. The orgasm you gave me this morning might fall into the same category. I’m so glad you like making me come; I meant it earlier when I said you’re very good at it.”

“So glad you’re glad,” Maui’s cock bids a fond farewell to her cervix as she props her ass on her heels, the change in depth and angle causing it to partially withdraw, “Want me to pull out?”

“ _No_ ,” Moana squeezes her sex around his cock as if to keep it in, causing him to strangle a gasp, “Stay inside me? Just not quite as deep.”

“Reckon I can manage that,” Maui raises a smug eyebrow, “Need a couple of minutes yourself this time?”

“Oh no, I’m going to require you to move again shortly,” Moana’s smirk is growing ever wider and more pronounced, “But are you okay staying like this for just a bit more?”

“Yup,” He’d stay this way for _days_ if she’d let him, the impracticalities of doing so (and the need to come) aside.

“Good,” Moana states firmly, “Because I _would_ like a moment to savour that orgasm. And to revel in the fact you called me –”

She pauses gleefully for dramatic effect. This provides Maui with a convenient moment to interrupt.

“Don’t recall calling you anything,” he proclaims loftily, as if his own smirk isn’t similarly battling for dominance however he’s trying to prevent it.

“You so remember,” Moana gives him the single most unimpressed look in the entire history of time. Its impact is thankfully somewhat lessened due to that telling light glowing yet brighter in her eyes.

“I remember you calling me handsome,” The size of Maui’s head – and ego – might be near reaching epic proportions on recalling this, “Never going to forget that.”

He means this literally.

“I’m never going to forget your face when I said it,” is Moana’s rejoinder. She can no longer maintain the unimpressed look, breaking into laughter.

Maui promptly loses the battle to contain his own laugh, “Never going to forget _your_ face when I called you –”

“ _’Damn fine’_ ,” Both the amused pleasure Moana is radiating and the enormity of her grin imply she’s very far from upset about this descriptor, “You know, I rather suspected you might have some fondness for these –” Glancing down at her body, she touches a hand to her breasts.

“You’re not wrong about that,” She really isn’t.

“– But I didn’t realise you felt that way about the rest of me,” Her grin melts into the loveliest smile.

“Not going to deny it, if that’s what you’re expecting,” Maui makes his shrug offhand, as if that smile isn’t doing all sorts of things to him inside.

“I didn’t think you were going to,” Moana’s scanning his face.

He doesn’t feel another touch of heat around his cheekbones at her faith in him, he does not.

“You’ve been giving me so many wonderful compliments I don’t know which to pick as my favourite, but ‘damn fine’ is very much one of them,” she licks her lower lip, drawing it into her mouth, “And I do think you’re handsome. And gorgeous. I called you that earlier too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Haven’t forgotten,” Maui just hadn’t been able to believe it at the time. It’s beyond awesome to find he can now.

Laughing a little at the enormity of his smirk, Moana delivers a stealthy poke right in that particularly ticklish spot between his ribs.

“Hey!” The grumble he aims for unfortunately emerges as more of a yelp.

“But to think I spent _two years_ believing I might have horrified you!” For all that her reproachful pout is rich with humour, Moana must have had some very real worry. Especially as she’d had no idea when he’d return.

Damned if he doesn’t feel bad about it.                                                 

“Kicking myself about that, believe me,” Maui fends off her offending finger, “Honestly didn’t mean to give you that impression.” That’s to say the least.

“I do hope you’re regretting it,” Her tone isn’t anywhere near as affronted as she’s making out, although it does contain a touch of justified indignation, “We could have spent all that time having sex!”

This is an extremely good point. Damn, what a missed opportunity. Maui can only hope she’ll let him make it up to her.

He would also greatly like to make up for that pang of genuine hurt he’s certain is hidden beneath Moana's teasing.

“Yeah, _really_ kicking myself,” he takes in a breath. This needs saying, “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have left like that back then; knew it was wrong at the time.” He pulls a bit of a face, “You were right. Wasn’t horrified by you, not at all, but –”

“You were horrified by _you_ ,” Understanding suffuses Moana's response.

“I guess, kind of,” Maui damn well owes her the explanation, “Could easily feel like a creep if I think about it. Known you since you were a kid, haven’t I. Since you were – what, twelve?” He’s well aware she wasn’t actually eight when they met. “Spent that whole ceremony of yours trying not to notice how you’d changed, not _letting_ myself notice – though deep down, you bet I did. Was the first time I really registered how much you’d grown up.”

“It was the outfit, wasn’t it,” Moana briefly preens before prodding him, “Though I must point out I wasn’t twelve when we met and you know it. And as I’m _sure_ you also know, I’d been an adult for a few years by the time of my inauguration so there’s no need for you to feel like a creep. If it doesn’t bother _me_ that you’re older than time itself – and it doesn’t – then please don’t let it bother you.”

“Am so not that old,” Maui has to mutter, though he can’t keep from grinning despite himself, “Anyway, it wasn’t just that.” He squints at her sideways, “Didn’t want to disrespect my best friend by thinking such things about her, did I. Not when I was convinced she wouldn’t appreciate it.”

For all Moana easily puts their friendship into words, it’s rare for him to do the same. He does so deliberately now, although –

Although he can’t deny the hope that perhaps they might be – you know. Not _just_ ‘best friends’ anymore.

(The hope that maybe they can be much _more_ than that).

“I’d scold you for speaking about me in third person if you weren’t being so lovely,” Moana runs her hand down his torso to the place where their bodies are joined, “ _Thank you_. However do feel free to think ‘such things’ about me – and to tell me about them.” She plucks lightly at his pubic hair. As if drawn upwards by the tug, his balls rise.

“ _Mm_ ,” Maui virtuously keeps his mind on the conversation, “Be happy to tell you _all_ about my dirty thoughts – and to hear yours.”

Needless to say he’d love to know each and every detail concerning her previous imaginings about him.

“I look forward to sharing them with you,” Moana’s smile crooks. She returns to their previous topic, “It wasn't just our slight age difference that freaked you out back then, was it. I think it was like you said yesterday too: you didn’t want things to be weird between us.”

Indeed. Whatever else happens or doesn’t happen between them, the prospect of losing her friendship was – and is – unbearable.

“Uh, yeah. That,” Maui makes the next a statement: “But we’re okay, aren’t we.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana confirms immediately, “That’s never going to change.” She considers him, “I’d quite like to do something about this –” she shifts meaningfully on his cock “– If you’re still all right with us moving soon, but… was there another reason you left like that two years ago? I can't help but wonder if something else was bothering you as well.”

“Quite like to do something about 'that' soon too,” Maui agrees – but she's right, there's was something else. He's entirely unsurprised she's picked up on it, “Yeah, though. There was – one last thing.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Moana reassures him when he can’t continue immediately.

“Heh,” he strives to sound casual with debatable success, “Nah, think I should.” Best to get it all out there – and they have already sort of discussed this part of it earlier.

So why is it so damned _difficult_ to talk about directly?

(He knows precisely why).

Maui makes an effort to get his act together, “It’s just – you know. Like I said. You were right.”

“Of course I was right,” Moana quips, momentarily cheeky; clearly seeking to ease his tension, “About what specifically?” She takes in the expression he’s not quite managing to keep neutral this time around, “My mortality.”

“Got it in one,” Maui’s not going to make a fuss, he is _not_.

This is something he’s just going to have to deal with – somehow – when the time comes: the possibility Moana might decline the offer the gods are intending to make her at the end of her life. As she has every right to do, if she so chooses.

Maui can only hope with everything in him that she says yes.

But two years ago, back at the time of her inauguration, he hadn't had the first inkling of the gods’ plan. And the idea of losing Moana – something he always stridently tries _not_ to think about – had struck him brutally hard during her ceremony, tangled up inevitably with everything else he was busy doing his utmost to repress.

And he hadn’t been able to cope.

He hadn’t been able to bear the prospect of speaking to Moana back then, of seeing her smile at him: not when she was looking so radiant and beautiful and _alive_. Not with the awful knowledge in the forefront of his mind that someday –

Someday far far far too soon as time goes for him –

She would be gone.

And so he’d run away.

“It’s all right,” Moana’s saying quietly now. Maui gets the impression she might have said this more than once, “Whatever happens – whatever it is you mentioned earlier but can’t tell me about – a part of me will always be with you, won’t it.”

She reaches out in illustration of her meaning at the exact same moment as he does, their fingers linking over the place where her little tattooed self usually resides; hands joining together over his heart.

“Moana,” Damn it, he sounds kind of choked up. This is _really_ not what Maui wants to be going for right now, “Okay if I –?” He starts to push himself upwards a bit.

Moana adjusts her feet and weight to allow for the movement, “Yes, it’s okay.”

“You mind if –” Desperate to replace thought and feelings with action, Maui makes use of his abdominal muscles, half rising; his body craving to get as close to her as it can. Reaching out with his free hand, he slides his fingers through her hair and then down to the crook of her jaw, “Can I –”

The words are choking him; he can’t seem to get them out.

“You can kiss me,” Moana leans down to meet him halfway, “Please do.”

The first brush of her lips against his has Maui gasping.

The shiver starts in his mouth, rattling his teeth, making his breath shake before spreading through the rest of his body. His efforts to shut away the emotions churned up by his confession completely failing. The taste filling his mouth as he kisses her resembles that of – of _tears_ (damn it damn it damn it), and –

And –

“Sorry,” Cursing himself, Maui pulls away. Kisses the side of Moana’s mouth instead, her cheekbone and then her temple; buries his face in her hair. Not at all hiding, “Sorry, _fuck_ –”

Crap, this is why he never, ever thinks about certain things.

Like Moana dying. Like the fact he’s in love with her. Like the fact she means more to him than anyone ever has in all his life.

Acknowledging these things – _talking_ about them (or at least about the first part) – has brought them into agonisingly sharp focus, even worse than at the time of her ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Moana is stroking his curls with her free hand, no hint of complaint in her voice or body language about the fact he’s basically clinging to her (which is sort of mortifying), “It’s all right; you’ve got me, haven’t you. And I’ve got you.”

Maui’s being stupid really, he knows he is. There’s a decent chance he _will_ get to spend the rest of forever with her. It’s just beyond difficult to reconcile with the possibility he might _not_. And with the long, long stretch of empty eternity that might come afterwards.

But –

But regardless.

Regardless of this, regardless of whatever happens – just as Moana said – he should focus on the time they _do_ have. Not to flee from the present; Maui’s already done enough of that. No more running away. If she’s willing to have him here with her, then –

If Moana’s willing to have him –

Sudden impulse slams into Maui, twinned with pure inspiration.

“So I’ve got you and you’ve got me, huh?” He makes his tone light, as if he didn’t just have some sort of emotions induced – whatever. Asks as nonchalantly as he can possibly make himself, “Want to make that official?”

Moana goes extremely still and silent for a heartbeat.

Then she splutters and squirms, “What? Maui – _what?!_ Let me up so I can see you.”

“Sure,” Maui compels the arm that’s wrapped itself around her shoulders to loosen, though he keeps hold of her other hand against his chest. Removing his face from her hair, he hastily swipes the back of his wrist over his eyes – for no particular reason, of course.

“ _What_ did you just say?” Moana raises her head so she can look at him. Her whole face is veritably glowing. Her eyebrows can’t seem to decide where to settle and nor can the rest of her expression: she’s as flabbergasted as he’s ever seen her, “I misheard, didn’t I. I must have done. You can’t have meant –”

“I can’t?” Maui hoists an amused eyebrow, “Reckon I can have meant it.”

He’s possibly never meant anything so much.

“You – you –” Moana’s having no little difficultly stringing words together, let alone sentences. But then she blurts, “Did you really just ask me to _marry_ you?”

She’s looking decidedly as if she would leap to her feet and start striding around the little hut if his dick wasn’t still inside her. Her fingers twitch around Maui’s as if needing to gesticulate in demonstration of her stunned amazement.

And Maui’s confidence finally balloons back up inside him – thank the gods – because hell yeah, _he just did that_ and it’s kind of the most awesome thing he’s ever done, even if he’s at least half convinced she’s going to say no.

“Hmm,” he pretends to ruminate over his answer, keeping Moana hanging for as long as he thinks he can get away with it – which isn’t very long at all – before shrugging lopsidedly, “Seems like it.”

Her eyes are the widest he’s ever seen them, “ _Why_?”

While this is far from the reaction he’d ideally choose for her to have, it’s not rejection (not yet, anyway). And it is a valid question.

“Oh, you know,” Maui gestures like it isn’t of any importance to anyone. He’s powerless to prevent a grin from spreading across his face all the same, “Just thought – hey, you love me, I love you, why not?”

There, he’s said it. Maybe she won’t notice.

“ _M-Maui–!_ ” Moana definitely notices, “ _You_ –” She presses her free hand over her heart, her breath coming short, much like when he kissed her before. This reminds Maui of the kiss previous to that, the one after her mother’s earlier interruption, and of back when Moana had been in the process of asking him –

What exactly _had_ she been about to ask?

Maui can’t help but have the suspicion (the hope) it might be to do with the fact she loves him and wants him. And that maybe, just maybe, these two things could possibly be connected.

Like maybe – just _maybe_ – there’s the chance Moana could be a teeny tiny bit in love with him too.

Although that still doesn’t mean she’ll say yes.

“Think on it,” he advises, knowing he shouldn’t push. Enjoying how astonished she is, enjoying the odd feeling of – of _freedom_ at finally having told her how he feels, “Anyway not to change the subject but you still up for moving again? Reckon ‘soon’ and ‘shortly’ both passed a while ago.”

While he’s still very, very happy remaining inside her like this, moving would be _fab_.

“You’re totally changing the subject,” Recovering somewhat, Moana gives him a poke. Catching hold of Maui’s chin in her hand, she stretches up to pepper his face with kisses, “And yes. To belatedly moving. Quite possibly yes to _something else_ as well.”

“ _Moana_ –” Maui’s dick jumps for joy inside her. The rest of him would exceedingly like to jump for joy as well. He’s powerless not to flail, “You – really? _Really_ really? Really _really_ really?”

In all honesty even a ‘possibly’ yes is more than he thought he’d get. The fact she’s considering it –

“Yes, quite possibly ‘really _really_ really’,” Beaming, Moana traces his lips with her fingers, “I’m trying very hard to be sensible here, even if I don’t want to be. Because we should _both_ think on it – and talk about it. That is, later.”

“Later is good,” Maui laughs in sheer, unbridled happiness and relief, “Got to – ah.”

“Got to kiss me?” Moana suggests. Her smile is brilliant, “Because I’ve got to kiss you.”

“Yup,” How can she have guessed?

It turns out they’re both smiling – and laughing – far too much to manage it particularly well, but it’s still pretty amazing, truncated as it is.

“Later,” Moana groans when they’ve established their mouths just aren’t quite going to obey their intentions right now, “More kissing later.”

“Yeah, later. But moving now?” That Maui can definitely do.

“ _Yes_ to moving,” Moana nips him on the nose.

“Need to stretch first?” Closing his fingers in the hair at the back of her head, he gently pulls, kissing her jaw when she arches her neck, his grin still firmly in place, “Or have a drink? Or you good to go?”

“I’m good to – ah no, not quite yet. I could do with moving my legs,” Moana corrects herself on a pout, “I could also probably do with straightening up. How about you? Thirsty? Still all right on your back?”

“I’ll go get us something to drink _and_ eat when we’re finished,” Maui’s certainly intending for them both to work up an appetite, “And yeah, happy on my back a bit longer if that’s where you want me.”

“Oh, I want you in every position possible,” Moana assures him (and isn't _that_ a thought), “But if you’re only happy for a _bit_ longer, I’d better hurry up.”

“No need to rush –” Maui starts, but she’s moving her legs, one and then the other, working carefully to straighten them out behind her while keeping his dick from slipping out of her sex. Moving until she’s lying flat on top of him like she was earlier, with that one crucial difference.

Damn but she feels tight.

“Hey,” Moana guides their still joined hands up higher so she can rest her chin on their linked fingers.

“Hey,” Maui replies obligingly, if a tad breathlessly.

“Right, just going to stretch for a minute. Don’t mind me,” Moana does so, tensing her legs for a long moment before relaxing. She pushes up a bit to rotate her shoulders and work a couple of kinks out of her back.

“Need help?” Maui lifts his free hand in offer (twitching a little at just how _interesting_ this all feels against – and around – him), “Wouldn’t want to be remiss in my duties in my ‘official role’.”

He’s not saying whether or not any massage would include surprise tickling.

“You can totally help like that later,” Moana relaxes onto him again, “Okay, just one last place that needs – ah. _Loosening_.”

Her smirk clues Maui in the fraction of a second before she tenses her muscles _elsewhere_ , her sex clamping down on him ardently, startling a grunt out of him. In truth he’s been half expecting it, but still –

“A-ah, Moana –” _Wow_. If he thought she squeezed his dick like this with all her strength previously, he was wrong.

“Too tight?” she lets up just before it crosses over from pleasure into _too much_.

“N–nah, no way,” Maui claims breezily, as if his heartbeat – and arousal – hasn’t leapt into overdrive. He’s wholly certain he’s leaking a fair amount of precum inside her, which is immensely (if rather guiltily) appealing.

“Good, I can do it again if you like,” There’s a very familiar and very welcome spark in Moana’s eyes.

“Open your legs a bit instead?” Maui wraps his free hand around one of her thighs as she does. He trips his fingers up to her sex, rubbing round of the edge of her opening, feeling the fantastic way it’s stretched around his dick.

“Ooh that feels nice,” Moana presses into the touch. Lifting her hips, she brings her own free hand down to touch where he’s touching, fingers overlapping at the base of his cock. Her tone is one of blithe innocence, “I wonder how it would feel if you could fit one of your fingers inside me as well as your dick. Although perhaps one of mine might be more achievable.” Her smile is guileless, “I could stroke you while you’re inside me. Would you like that?”

“That’s –” Maui can only stare for a moment. If they could somehow manage it (which is sadly debatable), if there was a way it wouldn’t hurt her – then _hell yes_ to both options and _hell yes_ he’d like it. And he's always suspected she's a mind reader, “Heh. _Yes_. And you know what? Exactly what I was just thinking of.”

“I did suspect it might have occurred to you too,” Moana’s eyebrows rise musingly, “Do you know, you stretched me so well earlier I did wonder if you might be able to get four fingers in. Do you think you could another time?” She pauses, her smile slanting into a grin full of mischief, “On that line of thought, if I stretched _you_ carefully, do you think I could get all of my fingers into you? Or even my whole hand? If you wanted me to, that is.” Licking her lips, Moana gives him a warmly appraising look, “If you do succeed in using your hook to shapeshift into a woman, I rather think I might be able to work my whole hand into you _somewhere else_. I have a feeling you might enjoy it.”

“You think so, do you?” Okay, moving is swiftly going to become imperative.

Her response is very certain, “I do. Similarly I have a feeling I might enjoy doing it to you.”

This all sounds like the best kind of challenge.

“Could – ah. Could be worth finding out then,” _Gods_ yes. Their size difference is enough that she might be able to manage it either way. And this is just possibly an experience that Maui’s never had, even as a man. One that’s surprisingly (or perhaps not that surprisingly) appealing.

It looks like he’s going to be getting in some practice time attempting to change sex. In truth an increasingly large part of Maui is entirely sold on the idea of doing so (and that’s not just counting his cock).

“Speaking of shapeshifting...” The suggestion slips out of him before he really thinks about it. Firming his heels on the floor, he rocks up into Moana questioningly and then again when she makes a noise of approval.

"Yes?" Moana widens her legs to accommodate this, moving back against him.

Maui gives her a crooked grin, “Reckon you might ever be up for me changing _you_ sometime? Don’t necessarily mean during sex but – yeah.”

Technically this isn’t something he’s done that often: it’s much easier to alter his own shape rather than someone else’s, whatever the intended change. But despite a couple of interesting – and unfortunate – slip ups in the long ago past (that did admittedly sometimes involve sex), he _can_ do it –

And he should know better than to let previous mistakes prevent them from trying now.

Moana’s taught him that. And Maui trusts her, just as she trusts him – and thanks to Moana, he trusts _himself_ far more now as well. This knowledge makes the prospect seem so much easier (and far less worrying).

And for some reason he has the feeling she'll take to it as naturally and skilfully as she does pretty much everything.

“You absolutely mean during sex,” Moana gives him a poke, “And _yes_. Yes please. Yes to _not_ during sex and yes to during. So long as it’s safe.” She looks delightfully inspired, “Could you change me into a man?”

This is of course the very thought Maui’s had.

“ _I_ could do this to _you_ then,” Moana sounds like she relishes the idea. She rocks back on him more firmly, encouraging him in deeper on the next thrust, resting her heels against him for more leverage, “With you as a woman. Or with you as a man. That’s a thing, right? You’d like it?”

Maui’s abruptly a bit breathless again for no reason he can think of, “Yeah, that’s a thing.”

While this isn't something he's done (relatively) that many times in the past – previous partners' expectations of him and all that (and a fair amount of his ego at work) – it goes without saying he’d like it. Very much. Particularly the thought of Moana being the one to do it.

_Particularly_ that thought.

For all Maui was practically salivating earlier with all her talk of fingers and hands, his mouth is bone dry now.

Gods, all the possibilities –

(When it comes right down to it, ultimately he'll happily let Moana do all sorts of things to him; things he’s never let anyone else even _try_. Whatever she wants, in fact).

“You’d like it,” Moana says for him with certainty, “Do you want to change position now?”

“ _Hell_ yeah,” Maui sure would, “Mind if I pull out a second?”

“If you have to,” she rises up on her knees so he can slide out, stroking his dick as it bobs mournfully between them, “Going to turn us over?”

“Yup,” he does so, Moana’s hand on his shoulder, his palm against her back to support her. As soon as he’s got her beneath him with a bit of space between them for further movement, Maui nudges her, “Roll again?”

“Oh?” Moana lifts an eyebrow but complies, shifting onto her stomach. She glances knowingly up at him over her shoulder, “You seem to have something in mind.”

“You think?” Maui slings a leg over her, straddling her waist, “Got you riiight where I want you.”

For further penetration if she’s up for it in this position – but for something else as well first.

“I do think,” There’s an amused tease in Moana’s response, “And that sounds a little ominous.”

“It does? Can't imagine why,” he makes his voice very innocent, “Mind me moving your hair over your shoulders?” On her hum of assent he brushes the soft strands aside to reveal the length of her back. And what a nice back it is. Maui lowers his head to kiss the nape of her neck.

“Mm,” Moana rests her head on her folded hands while he travels leisurely downwards using his fingers and mouth, “Maybe this isn’t so bad…”

“Seems pretty good from here,” Maui shifts accordingly as he descends, pulling back to give himself space to work, “Lift your hips up?” His gaze predictably lowers.

“I know where you’re looking,” Moana’s smirk is audible in her voice. She spreads her knees, pushing her hips up a bit.

“Uh-huh,” he gives her ass an affectionate grope.

“Hey!” Moana’s laughing too much for her protest to hold any heat. She pushes up further into it, “Planning on kissing me there too?”

Now that’s an invitation if Maui’s ever heard one.

“Want me to?” he checks all the same just in case, brushing his fingers over the bottom of her spine, “Promise I won’t delve.”

There, anyway.

“Go for it,” Moana agrees.

Permission thus granted, Maui bows his head to her ass. Instead of kissing her as expected, he delivers a mischievous nip to the top of one rounded cheek.

“ _Hey!_ ” It makes her jump.

“Sorry, sorry,” he can’t prevent his snicker, given that mirth rather than objection colours her grumble.

“You’re not at all sorry,” Moana quite rightly contradicts.

“Nope,” Maui kisses where he bit. Kisses the other cheek too, not wanting it to feel left out, and then takes his time over getting to know both, hearing Moana let out a little murmur of pleasure. Her skin here is so, so soft and smooth and sweet-smelling, her ass _perfectly_ shaped, and he could stay here joyfully for a whole lot longer, but –

Well, there’s somewhere else nearby he’d love to kiss as well.

It seems Moana has the same thought.

“Move further back a moment?” she transfers her weight onto her elbows and props herself up on her knees, raising her hips until they’re higher than her shoulders. Presenting her ass and sex to him gloriously, “I thought you might like a little more room for access.”

“Not complaining,” Maui _definitely_ isn’t complaining. He parts her sex with finger and thumb in the way he’s come to so enjoy doing, “All right?”

“Very all right,” It’s clear in Moana’s tone just how much she enjoys him doing this too.

“Not at all achy down here?” She's been stretched around his dick for quite some time after all.

Moana moans under her breath, “No, but why don’t you check just in case?”

Oddly enough Maui has been hoping for her to say these very words.

“Will do then,” he starts off by having a good feel, stirring up wetness, just generally playing with her at first.

“Ohh,” Moana’s soon making quiet noises in the back of her throat, increasing in volume when anything gets particularly interesting. Stroking the pad of his thumb back and forth over the opening of her vagina results in an eager hum – as well as some fun noises lower down.

Maui consequently concentrates on the area with more focus, keeping it up until she’s panting. Dipping his thumb inside her next, he holds it there like that, slipping his fingers between her folds, caressing them, resting his free hand on Moana’s hip with just enough pressure to keep her from moving when she tries to push into it.

“Maui –” Moana arches her back, need in her voice – and, brilliantly, no complaint.

“Mm?” Paying careful attention to be certain of the latter, Maui removes his thumb. He licks it hungrily then bends to do the same to her sex, “You want something?”

“Oh maybe,” Moana attempts to squirm into it with more fervour, huffing when he once again prevents her, “I can think of one or two things.”

“Just one or two?” Given her continued lack of protest, Maui slings his arm low around her waist to hold her yet more firmly in place; barely a fraction of his strength, but still enough. He says seriously, “Say the word and I’ll let you move.”

“Not – not yet,” Moana scrabbles at the floor, her head bowing, hair falling over her face, bringing a hand up to clutch at his wrist, “Keep holding onto me like this for a bit. Keep – keep using your mouth. Unless you'd rather use your dick?”

“Sure my dick can survive me using my mouth for now,” Snickering (and extremely pleased), Maui does as asked – to an extent, limiting himself to brief little licks that soon have her panting in frustrated arousal.

“Why –” Moana’s sounding worked up in the best of ways, her neck arching as she throws her head back when he laps at her folds, “Why are you so _good_ at this?” She adds an instant later, “Don’t answer that.”

“Natural talent,” Maui simply has to answer smugly regardless.

“I knew you’d say that,” Moana’s snort of laughter is gratifyingly shaky. Her sex wonderfully wet and warm against his face; her thighs trembling.

Smirking internally, Maui firms the tip of his tongue into a point, running it down the hood of her clit and back up again. Dipping down to either side of her clit before flicking at it repeatedly until she shudders and cries out. He asks without pulling back, “Mind if I try something a moment?”

“A-a-ah – ahhh, not at all,” It’s Moana’s turn to writhe at the vibration. She tries to push against him again without success, “So long as it doesn’t involve stopping.”

“Nope, doesn’t involve stopping,” It does however involve winding her up.

“Oh good,” There’s anticipation alongside curiosity in her voice, “Go on, then.”

“Let me know what you think,” Smothering a grin, Maui removes his face a couple of inches, holding her open again with the fingers of his free hand. Aiming carefully, he blows a steady, gentle breath over her clit.

(One of the many benefits of being a demigod: he doesn't need to pause to inhale for a _long_ time).

“That’s – _ah_ – it’s – oh –” Moana seems to be encountering his earlier difficulty with adjectives.

“Good, huh?” Maui’s unable to quite hide his glee. He repeats this little trick a second time, varying the pressure as it goes on. It gets Moana making the most interesting series of noises he’s ever heard.

“You know it is!” she sounds very much like she’d crush his face back against her sex if she were able to.

“Going to come soon?” He’s well aware she was getting towards that point before he interrupted things but ducks back in to give her a good suck anyway, just in case she’s not sure.

“I hope so!” Moana cries out a second time when he returns to licking her – thoroughly now, pausing every once in a while to blow or suck on her clit. Fingering her folds, nosing at her entrance, getting as many fun noises out of her as he can manage (from both above and below, as it were), before finally allowing himself to really get into the groove of eating her out.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods –” Moana’s back to attempting to squeeze all sensation out of his wrist. Knowing what this signifies, Maui loosens his hold on her waist so she can move. He rubs his tongue side to side rapidly over her clit, chuckling right up against her sex as Moana breaks out into her filthiest swearing, descending rapidly into near incoherency.

“ _Augh!_ ” she gets out at the last or something much like it, grinding hard against his face until he can barely breathe; her voice cracking as she shakes and shudders and comes.

“Not so ominous?” Maui gives her sex a big sloppy kiss once she’s done.

“Like I said,” Moana says airily (and really rather breathlessly), wriggling against him now she’s able to, “It wasn’t so bad.”

He doesn’t believe this assessment for a second, “Certain it was waaay better than that.”

“Yes maybe,” she relents after a moment, “You know it was.” Moana shoots an incredibly knowing look over her shoulder at him, “Do you know I’d love to find a way to hold _you_ down sometime. Make it so you can’t do anything except just – just accept whatever I decide to do to you.”

There’s a whole lot of wicked promise in her voice.

“Uh – Uh-huh,” It might be a good thing Maui’s not inside her at the moment so she can’t feel just how incredibly ardently his dick responds to this suggestion. It’s quite hard ( _hah_ ) to keep his response casual. Because if they could find a way to make this possible (even the thought of just pretending to be at her mercy is not without merit) –

Maui’s ego might not want him to admit it, but _yes_. Oh yes.

He can only wonder just what Moana would come up with in such a situation. How long she’d take over it. The ways in which she’d wind _him_ up –

“I have the impression you don’t dislike my idea,” Moana’s smirking, glancing back at what she can see of his expression (which is probably quite illustrative), “Do you want to be inside me again now?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Maui doesn’t bother to match his tone to the words, his voice very much implying how greatly he wants exactly that. He gives a quick swipe down the length of his dick with the wetness he just so happens to have gathered up on his fingers from Moana’s sex and lines himself up – but then pauses, thinking of her comfort.

As much as _he_ wants it in this position…

“Got to warn you – might feel a lot this way,” Maui can’t quash his smirk, “That is, even more than usual.”

“ _Good_ ,” Moana pushes her ass back against his crotch, making him gulp. She fishes a hand behind her in search of his cock, “Come on, inside me. Open me back up.”

Maui can do that, “Yell if it feels too deep.”

“I’m not intending to yell unless it’s – _ooh_ ,” she cuts herself off as he slides inside her, the head of his dick rubbing up very pleasantly against the internal walls of her sex, “That feels _very_ nice.”

“You think?” This is an assessment he certainly agrees with.

“I do think,” Moana shivers, “And you’re right, your dick feels _big_. I might even go so far as to say it feels incredibly, enormously huge right now.” (It goes without saying this does wonders for Maui’s ego). She pauses briefly, “Maybe don’t go too fast.”

Indeed this isn’t a position where Maui can afford to even think about letting go of control. Not that now is about that anyway.

“Yeah, don’t want to bash you where you don’t want to be bashed,” he simultaneously sort of snickers and winces as a certain memory inescapably surfaces, “Actually, can kind of empathise with you about that.”

“Oh?” Moana straightens her back until she’s kneeling on all fours, “I _so_ want to hear the story behind that remark. I’d love to hear all about your sordid past encounters.”

Even as he’d said it Maui had known she’d ask. Gazing appreciatively down the line of her body – and at where their bodies are meeting – it takes him a moment before he can answer.

“Weren’t _that_ sordid,” he smirks, “Well, not all of them” (some of them probably count as exactly that). He keeps his rhythm even while they talk, a smooth, pleasurable back and forth not intended to work either of them up too much yet, “Sure, will tell you about them sometime if you want me to.”

It might take a while (his smirk deepens).

“I do. Will you tell me that particular story now? The one about the ‘bashing’?” Moana’s moving in time with him, rolling her hips, seeming quite content with the situation, “Unless it’s too distracting. Or was it that ‘horrifying’ experience you mentioned?”

“Nah, that's a different story,” And not something Maui wants to recall now. “Can multitask and tell you the ‘bashing’ one now, if you really want,” he leans down to bring their bodies closer together, bracing a hand next to Moana’s on the floor, his other hand smoothing up over her stomach to her breasts. Admits, “Though yeah. It could be – kind of distracting.”

It’ll certainly be helpful in making sure he doesn’t get ahead of himself. His plan, after all, does rely on his stamina lasting for a good long time.

“I don’t mind it being distracting so long as you don’t,” Moana shifts up against him, pushing her back snugly against his chest, raising a hand to hold his. There’s a bit of a smirk and a tease in her voice, “I’m intrigued – and honestly, I can’t help but already imagine what it might involve. I could come up with all sorts of interesting possibilities if you don’t tell me.” She softens, sounding very honest, “I want to know about you. Including the stories you don’t usually tell.”

It’s _him_ she’s asking about, isn't it – about Maui himself, not the Great Maui, demigod. And Maui finds he _wants_ to tell her, even now. Even if this is a story he doesn’t come out of in a great light (he can only thank the gods it didn’t make it into a tattoo. As that would be all kinds of embarrassing). Even though it is indeed a tale he wouldn’t usually consider telling anyone.

Perhaps especially because of this.

“All right,” He wants to know all about Moana; he wants to tell her all about him, “Tell you it in brief, though? And uh, you know – not my best moment.”

Maui can admit this. Couldn’t for a long time after it happened, but yeah. He was in the wrong – mostly – in this one.

“I’m not going to judge you,” Moana assures him.

“Didn’t think you would,” he really didn’t. Maui thumbs one of her nipples, gathering his thoughts, “Okay, here it is: happened a long, _long_ time ago, back when I was – don’t know. Pretty young.” In truth he only has a general idea how old he is. Those kind of numbers pretty much lose their meaning after the first few thousand years. “Basically an old buddy and I had a falling out.” One of many, unfortunately, by that point. “Seemed like a good idea to make up by getting drunk and play fighting, which turned into fooling around – you know how it is.” He’s sure Moana can imagine even if he is fudging the details no small amount. “Turned out we were far too drunk to be doing what we were attempting to do and – uh.”

There’s not really any delicate way of putting this.

“They bashed you where you didn’t want to be bashed,” Moana supplies.

“Yeah, he jabbed me _way_ too hard in the –” Maui swallows age-old offended ire, “Right when I was off-guard.” It had _hurt_ as well as been a shock, but even so. He cringes, rhythm faltering despite his best efforts, “Knew it was an accident, but being sloshed out of my head I reacted – ah. Unintentionally poorly.” To say the least.

That sorry experience had put a pretty irreparable dent in that already strained long ago friendship.

And to Maui’s shame, that ‘dent’ – of a kind – had been literally, curse him, and did a fair amount of damage, more than he would have ever intended. His strength is such that it hadn't even taken any effort on his part: just that one moment of lost control.

And to his even greater shame, he also hadn’t apologised, too busy nursing his bruised pride (and bruised _something else_ ).

“Ouch. My poor sweetheart,” There’s a lot of sympathy mingled with a trace of mirth in Moana’s voice. Both of their movements have slowed by this point given the subject matter, multitasking having proved a little more ambitious than Maui would like to admit. She draws his hand up from her breasts to brush a kiss over his knuckles, “I'm not asking you to tell me what you did, but – unintentionally poor reaction or not, I still feel for you getting jabbed like that.” An amount of suspicion creeps into her tone: she’s evidently worked something out or at least thinks she has, “This long ago friend of yours… There’s no possible chance I would _know_ him, would I?”

There’s only one person – well, being – she could possibly be referring to here, isn’t there.

“Nope,” Maui blithely replies (pretending unawareness of the endearment but absolutely, totally aware of it and the notable _lack_ of teasing it contains), “This was, like, thousands of years ago; why would you think you might –”

“Oh, I don’t know,” While Moana’s retort is just as light, her amusement is increasing, “I just can’t help but think of _someone_ I’ve met who could possibly have been around back then. Someone you blatantly had a _history_ with –”

She puts a certain emphasis on that word.

“Nope,” Maui nevertheless insists.

She continues over him merrily, “And I did think the pair of you bickered like –”

“No idea who you’re talking about,” he waves off this claim even if he’s laughing too much to truly refute this obviously _completely ridiculous_ notion she’s somehow come up with, “Can we, ah. Think of other things now?” He pushes deeper into her illustratively.

“ _Yes_ ,” Moana’s agreement is wholehearted, “Although I will be requesting further details at a more opportune time. Don’t think I didn’t notice the very large gaps in that story. For a start I want to know if you were using your hook for any drunken shapeshifting purposes and how that worked out – or, if not, exactly _how_ the pair of you were attempting to do what you didn’t quite manage.” Amused intrigue fading into sincerity, she reaches her hand up over her shoulder, fingers brushing his cheek, glancing back at Maui as much as she can, “Thank you for the story. Shall we sit up?”

“You’re –” Maui pauses, but she just grins at him so he completes it, “You’re welcome. And yeah, let’s sit.” He carefully pulls out of her and pulls back, giving Moana room to move.

“I have to admit I’ve been wondering for a while if something happened in the past to make you so concerned about losing control during sex,” Moana says as she turns over, “It was then, wasn’t it. You hurt someone you cared about unintentionally.” Her grin gentling into a smile, she brushes her fingers over his knee, “Doing that really affected you, didn’t it. Even though he accidentally hurt you first.”

For no known reason whatsoever this makes a sudden lump leap into Maui’s throat (regret at the loss of that old friendship and the mistakes he made; that apology he never gave – and really, really should have done. Along with possibly at least one other teeny tiny apology).

(Maybe he will seek out that long ago former buddy in the not too distant future and do just that, if he’s allowed the chance. However damned bloody awkward it’ll be).

“Yeah, that kind of sums it up,” It really does, even if Maui’s never before allowed himself to admit this.

He’d never been able to subconsciously trust himself fully after that, not even when completely sober. To think of the damage he did then and how it easily could have been even worse; if his hold on his strength slipped with a mortal partner –

Yeah.

He’d never been able to really let go since then. Not until thousands of years later; not until today.

“I meant it earlier when I said I don’t want you to hold back,” Moana is saying, gentle yet resolute. Cupping his face in her hands, she guides Maui’s head down as she rises up to meet him, kissing his forehead, “Remember how you didn’t hurt me even a tiny bit when I sucked you – how you stopped when needed? Remember how you came in my mouth?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Maui’s hardly going to forget that. He wraps his arm around her shoulder when she crawls into his lap, his other hand sliding up her thigh to her hip, “Reckon I might be able to see where you’re going with this.”

“Do you think you might?” Running her fingers through his curls, Moana leans in to investigate his earlobe with her lips, nibbling it lightly, her breasts brushing his chest, “Because I think it would be very much worth us trying to see if you can come inside me _without_ holding back.”

“Not talking about me coming in your mouth again, are you,” Maui well knows the answer to this. He draws his hand down to her sex, sliding a couple of fingers inside her while he thinks. Hedging yes, but definitely considering it, in a way he’d never have allowed himself to before now.

Because it _would_ be very much worth trying now he knows his body will stop if needed ( _very_ much worth it indeed). And if they can manage without it getting too deep or too much for Moana, if he _can_ let go while inside her –

Well.

The thought alone is so awesome Maui might not get the chance to try in reality if he considers it too much.

“Yes, I’m not talking about in my mouth again – not now anyway,” Moana wraps her free hand around his cock. Drawing her fingers upwards, she swirls them over the head, thumbing over the slit, making it strain towards her as his stomach tenses. Raising her chin, she brings her face in very close to Maui's, affection and daring sparkling in her eyes, “Now why don’t you pick me up and prop me against something, and let’s see what happens.”

 

 

 

_A/N:_

_For some of the dubious exploits of a certain young demigod (as referenced last chap), please click the 'next work' link for a connected fic set in the far past (Maui x other male character mentioned here; very explicit).  
_

_Update (Oct 18): Thanks so much for comments and kudos for this chapter :) Apologies for the hiatus - I do hope and plan to finish this fic if/when time allows, and this chapter also needs some editing.  
_


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